Starlight
by 10wasmydoctor
Summary: Clare Williams thinks she's seen it all, until a mysterious girl from an alternate universe named Rose and the attack of the Cybermen crashes into her life. After aiding Rose and her friends Mickey and the strange Doctor, Clare's life is never the same - especially once Rose becomes trapped in Clare's universe and convinces her to join the Torchwood Institute.
1. Chapter 1

Hello. My name is Clare, Clare Williams. I'm nothing special or extraordinary, because you've never heard of me and no one ever will. Not that I mind, I'd rather be invisible. I'm more invisible than I'll ever be, now. I've done more than I'm given credit for, but they'll never know, will they? You could say I'm... on the run, from my past.

Anyways, this is the story. This is the story of Superhuman and the Doctors and Alaya. In my universe, where heart-broken girls get left on a beach, this story would be a legend, if I hadn't stopped it from becoming one. You, dear reader, are very privileged; only five people in existence know this story; the story of me, the girl that time forgot.

CHAPTER 1

The sun is shining this morning, a large improvement from the dreary rain of yesterday night.

Too bad. I'm not in the mood for sunshine.

"Annabelle!" I yell lazily out my open doorway and roll over to bury my face into my soft pillows. Annabelle is my step-aunt, married to my dad. She's the most organized, cleanest person I've ever met, she loves to clean. In the four years I've known her, I've never once had a messy room.

When I used to complain about my chores, my father always ridiculed me, saying, "Clare, you are far too old to have a nanny and not rich enough to have a maid." I can never understand the last part. Because of Uncle Pete's money, I can practically buy anything I want (not that I do). When Dad met Annabelle, I never had to complain again. She was like our live-in maid, except the tidiness in which she kept our home was voluntary.

I hear Annabelle's footsteps before I see her, mostly because my view is the forest green of my pillow. Something clanks in her hands as she walks, suggesting she is bringing a breakfast tray. I decide not to face her.

"Good morning, Clare. Do you need me to do anything for you, honey?" Annabelle's sugar-sweet voice asks calmly. I can picture her leaning in my doorway, with her silky blond hair waving down her back and balancing a tray on her knee while she pinned her side bangs back. Unconsciously, I smile.

Annabelle is the closest thing I have to a mother.

"Can you close my curtains, please? The sunlight is blinding me," I mumble, hoping she can hear me. I know I should get up and do it myself, but I know Annabelle would insist if I tried to do it. The thin cracks of light seeping through the space where I'm not tightly pressed to the pillow are shut off abruptly. I roll over, staring up at the ceiling, the room now darker and actual possible to see in.

Annabelle's tray is set down by my feet, so I reach forward, grab the handles, and lean against my headboard as I begin to eat it. I mumble my thanks for the food. Following suit, Annabelle sits down on the other side of my bed and lies back, like I am doing. She looks just how I imagined her, with her golden waves and a few loose bobby pins tucked in the sides. She is already freshened and dressed in her casual work clothes, and she smells like pine trees; I've always loved this smell of Annabelle's.

I wouldn't really refer to Annabelle as my mother figure. She is more of a friend than a mother, but I don't mind that. Annabelle is very rambunctious and adventurous; she's more the kind of woman who goes shopping with me and out to the movies and sets me up one blind dates than the kind who helps me with homework and washes my dishes (she actually does wash the dishes, but I'm just going to pretend she doesn't for a moment).

"So, what have you got planned today?" She asks, snatching one of my doughnuts and taking a bite out of it. I frown and eat the other before she can grab that one, too.

I don't respond, just quietly chew. My eyes wander to the silky green curtains blowing softly in the wind. For something so delicate, they can sure block out the sun.

The coffee she brought me is creamy and thick, even if it is scalding.

"Finals were last week, the semester is over. I have nothing planned for today."

She nods knowingly and slides off the bed. I watch as she lays out an outfit for me today, and we make small talk.

"I had a nightmare last night."

"Oh, really? You know, if you feel like talking I'll listen."

"It was about the night the Cybermen came."

"Oh. Do you want to tell me?"

I dived right in.

I'm not really aware of what I'm doing, but I'm behind the wheel of my Jeep Wrangler. As I drive into London, I can feel my heart pounding and my palms sliding off the steering wheel with sweat. I'm tense, the kind of tense only nervousness brings.

I set the gears into park and hop out, trying not to pass out. Liz is leaning by the entry to Starbucks, holding my caramel macchiato and drinking her own coffee. She looks impatient, which is to be expected of Liz, and shakes my drink. "Took you long enough to get here. Don't bother, it's on me," she assures when I try to give her a five dollar bill. She frowns. "You've been in London for seven months and you're still trying to use American money? It won't do you much good here."

I grab it from her, ignore the comment, and sit down at a small table near us.

I lean forward, talking softly so we can't be overheard. "Did you get them? Did you get the plans?" I ask, demanding an answer.

Liz slides a folded piece of paper from her pocket; ordinary, blank, and folded into fourths. I nod and tuck it into my pocket. It's not exactly what I'd been expecting, but I know that it's what I bargained for. Liz wouldn't let me down.

"There are two copies," she hints, winking. "Why should Anderson get all the authority? Take it, just in case." As much as it scares me, I decide to follow her advice.

While we wait for Anderson, a member of the company Torchwood who bargained with me for the plans Liz could get me, I stare at Liz. Her messy, dirty blond hair is pulled up and uncombed, and a pencil is stuck behind her ear. She wears a knit cream sweater that falls past her hips, long enough to pull off with black leggings and boots; a typical Liz outfit. Traces of smudged mascara under her eyes signifies that she's been reading one of her sad romantic novels again. Her EarPods flash, diverting my eyes to them. Even though she's not talking, I can just tell she's British by the way she holds herself.

Despite the fact that I've been in London for over seven months, I can't shake my American habits. All my friends here, especially Liz, love drinking tea. I, on the other hand, prefer a nice, cold can of Diet Coca-Cola. My Californian accent just seems to be getting stronger by the month. The more British traditions pop up, the more American I get. I can't say that I hate London, it's nice. It's hard to get used to the rain and double-decker buses and how nobody can pronounce the letter 'r' when I'm so used to sunshine and sandy beaches and tan lines, palm trees and ice cream and real parties, surfers and lifeguards and Hollister models. I miss the casualty and craziness alternating in my social life, my best friends and my boyfriends.

I snap out of my nostalgia as a black car slides up to the curb. The paint is fresh and shiny, and the glint of sunlight bounces off it and blinds me. The driver wears a suit and dark sunglasses, his dark hair slicked back neatly. The window is rolled down three-fourths of the way.

He removes his sunglasses. "Cab for Clare Williams."

"This is so Anderson," I say. "This has Anderson written all over it."

The man doesn't say anything, just stares at me intently until I open the side door and slide in.

We slide away from the curb, leaving tracks on the tar. The man, supposedly called Mr. Cohen, takes us across town and through the traffic. His speed seems high above the speed limit, but neither of us contradict him.

When the daily updates approach, downloading into the society of London's brains, he screeches to a halt and Liz and Mr. Cohen stay completely still for the moment. I just continue to drink my coffee.

Eventually, we reach the Torchwood tower. The sleek, tall building looks intimidating but I don't focus on it as we are lead inside, into an elevator, onto a high floor, and into an office where we sit down across from Anderson. He appears very bored, if not annoyed. This doesn't surprise me.

"Ms. Williams, we've been very straightforward with you this time. Our patience is waning. I'm really not in the mood to hear your excuse for not gaining the plans, so I expect your confirmation of the location of them," Anderson drawls. He appears bored, which doesn't make me want to hand over the papers.

My reason for involvement in this is far more important than a grudge, however, so I dig the plans out of my pocket and pass them to him. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "You know, Anderson, since I'm the one granting you access to these things, I'd kinda like to know exactly what I'm giving the Torchwood Institute, just in case I end up in court," I hint, sitting back in my chair.

"Californian, I see, " he notes, marking my accent. Spite entangles his thick, dreary voice. "I never liked California. Too... American." I know he is doing this just to set my jaw on edge, but it makes me angry anyways.

"Is there anything wrong with Americans, Anderson? I can assure you they don't sit around all day, drinking tea," I counter. I can feel my eyes narrowing into a slit.

"Oi!" Liz shouts, hurt, and jumps to her feet. "We didn't come here for a reenactment of the American Revolution. Just get to business already!" She sips more of her drink and sits down.

Anderson rolls his eyes and sighs. "I thought your companion would have explained this to you. Recently, Torchwood has gained an interest in Cybus Industries. Rumors of John Lumic's' inventions got around to us, and Lumic is breaking quite a few ethnic rules. So, we send one of our best members, Captain Jack Harkness, over to find out how much is rumor and how much is true. Jack returns, and brings rumors of a new species being created. Cybermen, they're called. The EarPods are just the first step, which I can see you don't have."

I point at my ears. They aren't real, of course, but I can't let him know that. "I do have them, and what's a Cyberman?"

Anderson smirks cruelly. "I'm not quite sure, but from what I've heard it is very gruesome. You will find out very, very soon. The one thing Jack did tell us is the key code to the emotional inhibitor is vital if we want to survive. But you might be too late."

My heart sinks. If what he says is true, I might have condemned humanity. I curse myself for being too late; my stupid laziness has got in the way again. Grief floods through me and my mind immediately jumps to my cousin, Alaya, just a tiny baby. If I caused Alaya to die, I would never forgive myself. For that matter, if anyone on this planet is killed because of me I will never be able to live with myself.

I remind myself of my side of this bargain. Leaning in, I whisper the question that has been on my mind for so long, "I believe my side of the trade is in order. I'll put it in four, very simple words; is my mother alive?" With each word, the intensity of my tone increases immensely.

For a moment, I don't think Anderson is going to uphold his promise. Lines creasing around the corners of his mouth tell me he's going to smile. That's never a good thing with Anderson.

To my surprise, he sits back and his voice drawls out slowly of his mouth again. "Yes."

A flutter of happiness leaves me out of breath. My hand goes over my mouth, without my consent, and tears gather in the corners of my eyes. I tuck away the happiness for a moment.

There's one thing that still confuses me. "Why did you say my EarPods were fake?" I don't know how he can tell, because they are virtually foolproof.

"Torchwood has access to many files, including yours, and you have never been properly fitted with the EarPods. I believe you've been acquainted with Mr. Rickey Smith, he would have warned you against them. I believe we're done here," Anderson stands and walks away formally. I sneer at his back, wishing I had the courage to do it to his face.

Liz smiles. "So, your mum's alive! Isn't that wonderful?" She asks, the happiness in her voice threaded with doubt. Due to her insecurity, Liz doesn't quite trust Anderson. I don't blame her.

I can't, however, hide the grin spreading across my face. "She's alive. I can tell. Now I've just got to find her." Just the confirmation of her existence allows me to feel her arms wrapped around me, soft and warm. I remember her distinct aroma of lemongrass, her curly dark hair, big, bright brown eyes and dark freckles sprinkled across her face.

Since Mr. Cohen has disappeared, Liz and I catch a bus to ride back to the Starbucks we started at.

"If you were my mom, where would you be hiding?" I ask, deep in thought on the matter.

Liz shrugs. "If I were your mum, and I was in hiding, I'd go somewhere with lots of people, so I could blend in easily. From what you've told me about your mum, she sounds like someone who would like to go somewhere tropical, like an island." She goes on for a few more minutes, talking about the possibilities and where she would and wouldn't go. I can hardly concentrate, instead thinking of Anderson's warning against the mysterious Cybermen and how they would appear soon.

"Speaking of EarPods, why did Anderson say yours were fake? Have you actually been meeting up with Rickey Smith? Is he your secret boyfriend or something?" Liz questions with suspicion. She raises an eyebrow on the last sentence and glares at me. Knowing Liz, she won't give up until she knows what I've been up to.

"Don't be stupid. I've met Rickey, and he warned me about the EarPods, but I'm not his girlfriend. You've seen him; do you really think I'd be interested?" I scoffed at her acquisitions. I'm not willing to admit the short, romantic relationship we shared, which now only embarrasses me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Liz snickering. I (unwillingly) dismiss it.

Liz joins me in my Jeep, begging me to drop her at the mall. I oblige, and go in with her just for the love of shopping. As we walk in, Liz chats with me. She's going on about the great taste of her coffee when something rams into my back, I lose my balance, and I get knocked to the pavement.

The man who ran into me stops to help me up, repeatedly apologizing. The first thing I notice is that he's got a local accent and is wearing a long brown trench coat. My disoriented vision settles, and the next thing I notice his wild brown hair, which sticks up in every direction. Familiarity pangs in my head, but I can't quite put a name to his face.

"I'm so sorry, are you alright? I'm not from around here, I don't quite know my way around," he mumbles, helping me to my feet. He stares at me, concerned. I smile.

"Well, you sound like you're native. Wow, I wouldn't run so fast through a crowded street if I were you, who know how many people you'll knock over!" He laughs. The laugh sounds like one I've heard a million times. I frown, and ask, "Have we met?"

"You can't have. I must have one of those faces, I get asked that a lot..." he gazes around, looking for a face in the crowd.

"Again, I'm really sorry, but I've got to dash."

He winks and speeds off into the crowd again, his coat flying behind him and his white shoes clapping against the pavement.

"That was_ really_ weird," Liz informs me.

I turn around, shake it off, loop my arm through Liz's, and continue inside with her. _You know him,_ a little voice whispers in the back of my mind. _You know him quite well. _Suddenly, a wave of nostalgia hits me, one so strong that tears form in the corners of my eyes. Breathing in heavily, I push them away and forget about the entire incident.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The rest of the day, the feeling that I'm being watched won't leave my head. Something's wrong, but annoyingly I can't put my finger on it.

Still, the notion follows me around for the rest of the day. When Liz and I part, it seems to be growing stronger. As I lie in bed, tossing and turning hopelessly, the uncomfortable feeling grows even stronger.

Annabelle is out late tonight, at my Aunt Jackie's 39th birthday party. She's actually turning 40 (Annabelle told me), but Jackie insists it's her 39th. I can see the lights in the windows in their house, since they live right next door to us. The party is supposed to be very high-end; even the president is rumored to be there.

With her out of the house, I've been tasked with taking care of Alaya. Motherless, I often switch off with my other cousins caring for her. Annabelle's sister, Margaret, was killed in a car accident just after she gave birth to Alaya. Her father disappeared as soon as Margaret found out she was pregnant.

I can't tell you of a more beautiful baby girl than Alaya. She has dark hair, the same shade as mine, just long enough to pull back into a little sprig of a ponytail. She has chocolaty brown eyes, and a little bit of a pointy nose.

Even though she's just my cousin, she often seems like my own daughter. Alaya reminds me of my young self in so many ways, right down to the way she looks similar to me. I feel a great sense of devotion to her.

A cry breaks out from the little crib in the corner of the room where she's sleeping. I walk over, lift her out, and glide over to stand by the window. I rock slowly, singing to her as she whimpers.

This lullaby is different from the one I usually sing. It doesn't have lyrics, but instead a haunting series of pitches and tones. I don't remember where I learned it from, but it puts Alaya to sleep quickly.

I've been told I have an almost... hypnotic voice. Hypnotism isn't real, I know that, but my voice does have an effect on anyone that listens to it. It's what got me into music, and dashed my dreams of being an author, but when that fell through, I clung onto my last option; becoming a doctor.

Alaya's soft breathing brings a small smile to my face.

A flash of light over in Pete's yard snatches my attention and I stare at it. From my view, partially blocked by the trees separating our yards, I can see a large metallic truck pulling into the driveway.

I recognize the symbol stamped into the side of it, a C with a dash through the middle. It's the company Liz works for; Cybus Industries.

A flash of fear races through me. If Anderson wasn't just trying to scare me out of my wits, these might be the Cybermen he mentioned.

The back of the truck opens and a blur of metal marches out. When they stop, I have a better view of the men, and I really am scared out of my wits.

They're metal men. About six and a half feet tall, covered completely in shiny metal, and the absolutely most terrifying things I've ever seen. I grab a light blanket off my bed and wrap it tightly around us.

Alaya is awake now, but she doesn't cry. I guess she's smart enough to know when it's best to keep quiet.

There are so many Cybermen, I can't keep track of them. As they begin to crash through the windows into the Tyler residence, my mind jumps to all my family members that are in that building, now in danger. Annabelle. Uncle Pete. Aunt Jackie. It's possible my dad might be there, even though he doesn't like parties, and isn't too fond of Jackie. I feel guilty for chewing him out earlier for not buying Jackie a present.

I might have been his demise.

To my horror, the Cyberman at the edge of the line, closest to the line of trees separating my house and the Cybermen, turns its head, like it can sense my presence. The metal head rotates until it faces my direction.

When it's cold black eyes latch onto mine, shivers tingle down my spine. I know it can see me, and my theory is proven as the Cyberman blasts through the trees and heads in my direction.

I back up against the wall and slide down against it, my only reassurance the faint whimpering from Alaya. I can't help shivering, both the fear that numbly grasps me and the chilly February draft in the house.

Below us, the Cyberman's stomping metallic footsteps grow louder and closer.

From the position I'm crouched at, leaning back against the wall, I can see just over the windowsill into Jackie's yard. Chaos is erupting. People screaming in peril, the crashing and falling of the Cybermen, and the blasts of something that sounds like gunfire from a science fiction movie all seem to be trying to best each other in volume and the horror they bring. Lights flare in and out. Down in the yard, a group of the Cybermen surround a few escapees, two of which I recognize as Pete and Rickey. Something flutters inside me, but I can't tell if it's relief or grief; that they escaped, or that Jackie isn't there. Pete wouldn't abandon Jackie unless there was absolutely no hope of saving her. With them is a tall, dark-haired waiter and a shorter, blonde waitress.

The tall man whips something glowing out of his pocket and it knocks out the Cybermen around them.

Only when I realize this do I realize that the footsteps of the impending Cybermen have stopped.

I don't want to die. I really don't. Some people might call it selfish to want to live a little longer, but I'd rather live than die just to prove my selflessness. There's so much more I want to do, so much I want to see. If I die, who will take care of Alaya? Who will Liz drag along to chick flick movies on her free weekends?

Faces flash through my mind; people I've lost, people I've loved, people I would die for. My little brother Calvin, who died when he was nine years old in a car accident. My mother, father, and step-father. Alaya, just seven months old. A collage of people I couldn't bear to leave fills my mind and brings tears to my eyes.

I can't allow myself to focus on that. However, tears are still managing to slide down my face. In my otherwise ordinary, sometimes boring life, I never had wondered about what to do in a situation like this.

A searing sound shatters my ears, so I cover my ears and tuck into a tighter ball. I can tell the window's been shattered. Instinct takes over, and like we'd been taught in earthquake drills, I cover the back of my neck.

Shards of something scratch my skin everywhere I'm not covered or protected by something. I try to conceal Alaya as much as possible so her damages are minimal. I can tell from the searing in my arms that it was glass that pierces my skin. The window must have shattered.

It takes me a minute to stand. The pain is immense, and my whole body aches, but I find the power to stand and manage to push myself up, leaning against the wall and panting. Alaya stays nestled in my arms, and barely scratched.

I have never been so grateful for my decision to wear my slippers. Carefully and slowly, I navigate around the broken glass. When I reach the window, I stare at Pete's home. The place is calm now, but I don't think that's a good thing. Smoke curls off the roof.

The quietness of the night is eerie. Not sure of what I'll find, I lean forward to peer over the windowsill. My cuts and scrapes ting with the movement, but I ignore it.

Below me, the Cyberman waits. Its arm is raised upwards, still in position from blasting the window.

The Cyberman's face stays monotonous, but I have a sense its expression has changed. I'm not quite sure if a Cyberman can do that.

The voice it speaks back with is very robotic and toneless. "The child... I want the child... where is my child?"

I hold Alaya even tighter. What it wants with her, I don't know, but I will never give her to them. "I know I might not be as fast or strong or deadly as you, but I do know one thing; you will only ever get her over my dead body," I snarl and draw back in the room.

My cousin Danielle, who's staying the night, wanders into my room, and I can see the inky tears on her face. Dani is only twelve years old, but is very responsible and loves helping me take care of Alaya. We've been friends since she was seven and I was in my mid-teens.

She approaches me, wrapped in her soft green blanket, and whispers something into my ear. What she says something beyond her age, so wise it brings me to tears. Again. It gives me the courage to continue, standing up and hugging her again with wet eyes.

She proceeds to take Alaya into her arms, and give me another sad, wise smile. At this moment, I realize how truly intelligent she is and I am grateful. "Go. I'll watch Alaya."

My only choice now is to run. If Annabelle and my father are alive, I must find them. They might have traced the signal back to me, the one who was trying to steal the emotional inhibitor key code. Maybe the attack was aimed at me. But Anderson had known that this was going to happen, he'd told me. "You're going to find out very soon," he'd told me. There is a possibility this was pre-planned, and I just happened to be an observer in it.

All this is racing through my mind as I run through the fields and up the road. Thankfully, I was always one of those girls who could outrun all my classmates, and whenever we had races in P.E. I'd always come in first. If there's ever a time I needed my long, quick stride and powerful legs, it's now.

It doesn't take me too long to reach London. I can feel adrenaline racing through me, pumping blood to my legs and arms. I feel a bit winded from my run up the highway, but not enough to slow me down. That's when I see it all round me. Everyone, young and old, everyone with the EarPods, is walking in a straight line, all towards the Cybus Industries factory.

I understand Rickey's warning now. The EarPods are controlling them. If Rickey hadn't cautioned me, I'd be there with all of them, and I don't want to know what happens when they reach the factory. In my head, I remind myself to thank him later.

Someone grabs my arm and drags me into the alley to my side. I whip around.

When my eyes adjust to the dim light, I discover it's Pete and the blonde waitress from the party. They both have the EarPods, but they must be fake, like mine.

"Clare. You're not being affected?" Pete asks rhetorically, but cautious all the same.

"No. They're fake. Neither are you, apparently. How come Jackie wasn't with you?" I ask. I suspect the answer will break my heart, and I'm not anxious for that, but it slips out anyways.

Pete looks down. "We had to leave her behind."

The blonde girl smiles at me. "Another survivor. Good, we need all the help we can get. I'm Rose Tyler. Have you heard from the Doctor?"

"Clare, Clare Williams. Pete is my step-uncle, and yeah, I was warned about the EarPods. I don't know what Doctor you're talking about, but I know you're not from around here," I remark, curious as to who she is. She seems kind and respective, so I return her kindness.

"No, I'm not." She lowers her voice and whispers the next part, "This might sound crazy, but I'm a time traveler from a parallel universe, and I've never been here before. Me, and these two friends of mine. The Doctor is one of them, and he's got experience, sort of, so we have to trust him. I don't know why I'm telling you all this, it just seems like I can trust you," she adds, shrugging, although it doesn't seem so casual to me.

I ignore her strange remark and turn to Pete. "What do we do to stop them?"

His response is unnecessary, because I can see it in his eyes. "We do what the Doctor told us to do. We blend in, and see where it takes us."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

When the Cybermen's backs are turned, the three of us slip quickly and quietly into the line. Following the example of the others around us, I turn my expression stony and emotionless. We are marched through London toward the factory, just as we'd expected.

It's harder than it sounds. I can't shift even the tiniest bit or we'll be given away.

My mind is racing, out of control and searching for answers. Prior to this, she explained more in depth about how she, the Doctor, and Mickey (A different version of Rickey) are from a parallel universe. They fell through a crack in the time vortex, a place connecting every point in time and space that made it possible for the Doctor to travel in his ship, called the TARDIS . In her universe, Jackie and Pete are her parents, with the minor drawback of Pete being deceased there. No version of her or the Doctor exists here.

Her story is enough to make my uneasiness from earlier in the day returns.

As we approach the factory, I feel my stomach turn inside out. Liz, who will be somewhere in this ever-growing line of citizens, works here, but I've never had the desire to entire it. The building is gigantic and dark, and it has a haunted house feeling about it. I'm not one for haunted houses, and the stories people tell about it make it even worse. Some people never come out, and those who work there are never quite the same. Once, on a dare, I almost broke into it, but I chickened out at the last minute. Now, I'm about to get the full tour.

I see Rose take Pete's hand and squeeze it gently. Since he's in some confusing way her father, I should dismiss the gesture, but she _is_ being careless and is going to give us away.

We're lead into the factory. The first thing I notice; the ceilings, or where the ceilings should be. It's so high up that I can't see it, and steam replaces the empty space. The entire factory is covered in the steam, thick and cloudy. In this part, everything is a shiny gray metal color, modern-looking, and thrown about in pillars and columns and racks. The line is divided up over and over again. The grinding robot voice sounds over the intercom with minute pauses between each announcement, heavy footsteps and crackling metal gears mix with screams of pain and torture farther away. I'm not anxious to discover the origins.

It's almost impossible not to choke in the thick fog, but I forcefully restrain myself. Eventually, we're lead to large tanks with metal doors and colorful smoke pouring out of the top. I really hope we can find a way out of here, because the whirring mechanics and screams from them are terrifying.

Despite my earlier claims of carelessness, my fear intensity I take Pete's hand for just a second and then drop it.

A Cyberman sticks its hand out in front of Rose and chants, "You will wait."

Rose's breathing is uneven and ragged. It's obvious she was shocked by the sudden halt, but who wouldn't be? Especially if they were trying to remain completely unemotionless and unnoticed. I can tell we're all scared out of our minds.

"Are you alright?" Pete asks her. Their attention is diverted forward, not towards the Cybermen, but towards the menacing chambers no one comes out of.

"No," Rose admits.

Pete leans forward and mutters something to Rose. I don't hear what he says, but it must have been about Jackie. I am regretting his decision just as a Cyberman in front of us turns to face Pete and Rose.

"You are Peter Tyler. Confirm- you are Peter Tyler." The Cyberman's voice is the same as the rest - metallic, cold, and monotonous.

Pete's hands are shaking. "Confirmed."

"I recognize you. I went first. My name was Jacqueline Tyler."

I stay stoic, but my heart shatters.

"No!" Rose breaths.

"What?" Pete shouts.

The Cyberman turns to another, realizing our faultiness. "They are unprogrammed. Restrain."

Pete lunges forward as the Cybermen come to take them away. "You're lying, you're not her! You're not my Jackie!"

"No, I am Cyberform. Once, I was Jacqueline Tyler."

"But you can't be, not her!" Rose is shuddering like crazy, her voice breaking. I feel like doing the same, but I must stay completely still, because I might be their last hope.

How can it be her? Although Jackie and I weren't extremely close, I knew her enough to know that this isn't be her. She's not dead, I keep convincing myself.

"Her brain is inside this body." The voice tears at me.

The pain in Pete's response is even more heart-breaking. "Jacks, I came to save you!"

"This man worked with Cybus Industries to create our species."

Just when I thought my heart couldn't break any more, it did.

"He will be rewarded by force. Take them to Cyber control." The Cybermen shove them down the alley.

This is my chance to get away. Despite the grief that comes with the realization that we can't save Jackie, I might still be able to find Cyber control, whatever the heck that was, and save them. Maybe I'll even meet the Doctor, and I do want to, because he sounds fantastic.

There's never been a time I've appreciated my small, quick figure more than now. I slip through the allies and scramble through them, blending in with the tanks. There's platforms up in the smoke, and they look like my best option. I jump up some stray cartons and haul myself onto a platform extending across the tanks. A rope hangs down from somewhere higher up, and I latch onto it and climb up until I reach another platform just wide enough to stand on. Shivering, I push myself along it. I'm so high up above the ground, it takes a lot of my courage not to break into sobs.

My foot slips and I fall on my face, my fingers catching the edge. I dangle, panting and shouting, on the very tip of it. Out of pure terror, I manage to haul myself back onto it.

Relief shakes me. I need a minute to regather myself, but one minute I waste is one more minute Pete and Annabelle might be dead. I put in my mental list of people to save. Instead of sitting down, I stand up shakily and run the rest of the way, properly scared for my life but trying my best to ignore it.

Eventually, I reach an air vent. Due to Annabelle's lock-picking lessons she insisted on giving me, it's not too hard to open it and crawl in. Smoke from the factory room causes me to hack for a minute. My throat burns with intensity, but I shake it off and continue down the shaft.

It's small, but just wide enough for me to fit. When I reach the end of it, I push out the overhead grate and climb onto what I find to be the roof. The chilly February night makes me shiver.

The metal ladder ascending to the zeppelin which John Lumic owns is just too tempting to ignore. I climb it as fast as I can, skipping two steps at a time. There aren't any guards, which is kind of weird but I dismiss it. Entering the zeppelin, I notice two guards curled up in a heap on the floor. They aren't dead, just knocked out. Peeking around the rectangular box directly in the middle, I see Jake and Rickey, who were friends of mine when I first moved to London, but have become distant.

On their surveillance screens, there's an image of Rose, Pete, and another man in a room surrounded by Cybermen and talking to another Cyberman who is probably their leader. _John Lumic,_ I decide. The infamous CEO of Cybus Industries; who else would be the commander of his creations?

They're safe. I'm so relieved that I can't hide myself any longer, so I walk over to Jake. "What can I do?"

Rickey jumps and surprise mingles with confusion on Jake's painful expression. I wonder sadly who he has lost tonight, but I don't have the heart to ask. "Clare? What are you doing here?"

"Doesn't matter. I want to know what I can do to help," I respond stubbornly. Jake sighs, shifting his position.

Rickey stares at me ignorantly, like something he found on the bottom of his shoe. "Who are you?"

I furrow my brow and push a strand of my hair behind my ear to reveal the forged EarPod. "Clare. You know me."

Jake shakes his head. "No, this is Mickey. He's a parallel version of Rickey."Anger and hurt burns in Jake's eyes, and I can't help wondering if Rickey is dead.

"Oh." I reply lamely.

"Clare, you can't stay here. We've got it all under control, they'll be safe, but this thing's gonna blow really soon. I don't want to be responsible for your death."

"What about you?"

"We'll be fine."

In a flurry, I run back to the latter. Just before I descend, I remember the folded copy of the emotional inhibiter code in my jacket, and stop abruptly at the landing. Turning around slowly, I watch Mickey.

"Binary 9." Mickey breathes, followed by, "What is Binary 9? I can't remember it." He panics, furiously trying to type in something, and that's where I step in.

"Take this. It's the code, you'll need it," I insist, handing it to Mickey who immediately types in the code and follows the further instructions from the man on the screen. After he mutters his thanks, I feel satisfied and make my way to the ladder. I jump after making the halfway point, enjoying the tingling sensation in my feet. Following my own instructions, I bolt to the fire escape and make my way down it. When I get to the bottom, I drop the remaining few feet and feel the tingling again.

The adrenaline I felt previously is even stronger now. I feel transformed, not my usual self.

All the Cybermen around me suddenly drop to their feet and emit screams of pain and anguish.

I vaguely recognize one of them, the same one that asked for Alaya, and I run to its side. Something about it draws me towards it, the same thing that allows me to recognize it, and I desire to find the source.

"What's going on?" I whisper, confused. To my surprise, the Cyberman answers, sounding sad and ashamed. "We have realized ourselves."

Now it sounds surprised. "Clare Williams? Clare Elizabeth Williams?"

Then I realize. The emotional inhibitor. I remember Anderson talking about it. "If we need to defeat these things, the emotional inhibitor key code will save us," he'd said. The thing Liz stole. It controls their emotions, but now they've gotten them back.

I can't help but wonder; if I'd gotten it sooner, would anyone have died tonight? I had tried to get it myself, but failing, I had resorted to begging Liz for help, though it hurt me to admit.

"That's me, yeah, do I know you?" I don't really want to know, but I want to give whoever this used to be some respect.

It's choking out its last words now. "My... baby... Clare... My name was Carolyn Williams... Will you find my daughter?"

I burst into tears. Carolyn Williams, looking for her little daughter many, many years ago. Carolyn Williams. My mother. When she had disappeared, I had never imagined it was something like this that had taken her. I had suspected drugs, but this is much worse than anything like that.

"Mom, I'm so sorry," I gasp. My tears run down her metallic body. She wasn't asking for Alaya, back at home. She was asking for _me_.

"Clare?" She mutters once more. When I look down, she isn't talking anymore. My tears well up, but I wipe them and try to remain composed.

I stand up, and walk away. The sorrow is destroying me, and I have to get out of here before it worsens.

Behind me, the factory explodes.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

I finish, my voice catching in my throat. It feels weird, reliving the night that changed me forever. Especially around Pete, we never talk about it. Everyone else, caught in that hypnotized condition, doesn't remember much about it, but I do. Nobody, not even Annabelle, knew what went on that night for me. Tears appear in the corner of my eyes.

I can tell Annabelle is not reacting well, quite fairly shocked, but she puts up an effort to conceal it. She doesn't really know what to say, but I don't hold it against her. My the warmth of my drink is gone, leaked into the air overtime. I sip at it anyways.

Her first response is very shaky. "Clare. Your mother... you always said she went missing... you never told me..."

A small nod of the head is all I can manage.

Annabelle knows that telling me she's sorry won't help, so she moves to her next remark. "Have you written this down? This could be the inspiration you've been waiting for."

She's talking about the book I want to write. Being an author has always been a dream of mine, but I haven't found the perfect story yet. Nothing inspires me more than inspiration. That feeling you get, where your heart either swells up or breaks, and you feel breathless, and you can't think anything else other than, "I've got to write a story about this!" or "This person needs a story!" is the best feeling in the world, and I can't understand why someone would choose not to follow that gut-wrenching feeling. That's inspiration for me. That's why I want to be a writer. Yet, until I get that heart-swelling, breath-taking moment, I'm as inspirationally dead.

This time, it's a slight shake. I stare at my hands, as if they're responsible for the empty inspirational crevice that resides in my creative mind. "It feels incomplete. The plot isn't quite good enough. I get this feeling there's going to be more to this story, and I can't write it down until I know the ending."

Annabelle kisses me on the head. "You're the bravest person I've ever met, Clare."

"You've heard what happened, but tell me this; if I hadn't gotten those plans to Anderson sooner, like he said, would anybody have died?"

Annabelle doesn't answer, which confirms the fear that's haunted me for so long. I cover my face in my hands as she leaves.

Sighing, I pull on my outfit for the day; a striped black-and-white elbow length sweater, denim black shorts, and beat-up Chucks, which I insist on wearing despite my father's protests to buy new ones. I comb my hair, chest-length and chocolate brown, but it stays frizzy and tangled. It's similar to most of my outfits, although nothing is too predictable when it comes to my wardrobe.

For the next few hours, I don't really do anything in particular. Wandering around my house, playing guitar, scribbles of potential plot lines in my notebook. Since it's my summer semester of college, school is out, and I don't have anything to do. It's not until much later in the day, when I am sitting in a tree in my yard, that I hear Uncle Pete's car pulling into the driveway.

Out of curiosity, I close my notebook, set it down, and peer over the hedges to watch him climb out of the car. The saddest and grimmest expression he's ever worn, topped only by his grief after Jackie's death, is splayed across his face. Mickey climbs out after him. When he sees me, he gives me a bleak nod.

Over the past few months, I've gotten to know Mickey better. The few times he was in town and not destroying Cybermen with Jake, I befriended him. He has told me all about his world, and Rose and the Doctor, and everything they've done together. It fascinates me every time. Just from the way he nods, I can tell something terrible has happened.

Another woman follows Mickey. With a shock, I realize who it is. "That's impossible," I stutter, my mouth dropping open. I drop from the tree as quickly as I can and rush to the hedge, gaping at the sight before my eyes.

"Oh my gosh, she's alive. It's Jackie," I mumble to myself. It's Jackie, it's really her. Same blonde hair, same face, everything is exactly the same. It probably shouldn't surprise me as much as it does, because I've met Rickey and Mickey (that kinda doesn't count, because I never saw them at the same time). Still, seeing her walking, breathing, holding Pete's hand with tears streaking down her face, makes my breath leave me and my throat swell up.

I want to run up to her and wrap my arms around her and apologize for not being fast enough. My legs try to push me forward, and I almost give in, but then I see Rose.

There aren't words to explain the devastation. Rose isn't trying to conceal her tears, crying freely, her head in her hands. She leans against the Jeep, her mascara smearing all over her face. When Pete slams the car door shut, Rose the last one out, I feel my heart shatter. Her sobs are desperate and never-ending, and I just want to stop her pain, stop this agonizing heart-break.

I knew when I met Rose that she wasn't the kind of person who'd just abandon the Doctor, even though I've never met him. She'd stay with him, forever. The love in her eyes, the admiration, when she described that man, is enough reassurance. Whatever happened, I'm not sure I want to know because I can tell it's horribly sad.

Also, Rose said that travel between parallel worlds was impossible. I have the uneasy feeling that she's either trapped, or this world is in terrible danger. The earlier seems more likely from Rose's weeping.

From her current status, it doesn't seem kind to approach her. Despite my instinct to do anything I could to console her, I'm frozen to the spot. The feeling of tears running down my cheeks reappears again.

They migrate inside and disappear behind the large door. If Rose needs anything, it's a cup of tea and a friend. Even though we didn't spend much time together last time, it's worth a shot. Maybe I can be that friend.

After brewing a cup of tea and grabbing myself a Coke, I head over to Pete's house and knock four times. Not wanting to be seen crying, I wipe my eyes off with the back of my hand. Pete opens the door, sighing with the obvious pain in his eyes.

"Hi, Clare. Now's not exactly the best time - "

"I want to see Rose," I blurt out. Pete's eyebrows raise.

"Like I said, now's not the best time."

I keep my ground. "Uncle Pete, all she needs right now is a cup of tea and a friend. I have to give this to her." My head gestures to the mug in my hand.

From the lessons Annabelle's given me, I have the ability to read faces and expressions easily, like words and pages spilling out of a book. Usually, I can read any face, but Pete's is almost impossible to deduct anything from. After a minute of a silent staring contest, he breaks his stare and lets me past.

"Thanks. Where is she?" I mutter, glancing down at the floor.

"Second floor, first bedroom on the right. And, Clare-" he stops me as I start up the stairs. "She's broken. Do try and be delicate. Thank you."

I gulp, but it sticks in my throat and I continue up the steps. When I reach Rose's room, I tap lightly four times and enter when she says, "Come in."

The overwhelming grief overcomes me again, but I swallow it and sit down. She glances at me for a second and takes the tea. Sipping it carefully, she nods. "Thanks, Clare, this is really good. Where'd you learn to brew like that?"

"My friend, Liz, is a culinary master. Look, Rose, I know we kinda got off on a strange start, but I was thinking, maybe we could forget about that night and start over?"

"I don't want to forget. They were some of the scariest and saddest days of my life, but I don't ever want to forget them. Never," she responds quickly. After a pause, she continues."But, if you want to be friends, that's okay with me."

She starts to sob uncontrollably again. "It's just... one minute I'm off with the Doctor, saving universes, making friends, falling in love with him deeper and deeper every day. Now I'm sitting here, in this ordinary, docile little town, talking to you about making tea! How am I ever going to get use to this? When I was with him, I learned so much, I discovered how to live better and more fuller, and when I didn't know what to do I learned from my mistakes and became a better person! It's a better way of living, following your dreams and doing what you really love, but also doing what must be done. You go out there and you discover, see the beauties of the world and prepare for the evils. You grow, and change, but for the better.

"And-" her voice catches in her throat. "I loved him. It's the hardest thing in the world, walking away from the man you love and not being able to do anything about it. I didn't even get to say goodbye! Out there, I found out what true love was and suddenly, it gets ripped out of my hands. It's not fair!"

By now, she's on her feet and almost shouting in her angst. I try to calm her, get her to sit back down, and respond calmly, "It's not fair, not fair at all. But it might help if you tell me what happened? Maybe I can help you."

She looks as if she doesn't want my help, but she tells me the story anyways. It takes her an enormous amount of courage, but she is strong. As the story goes on, it gets sadder and sadder, and by the end my respect for her and everything she's gone through has boosted incredulously.

"There's no possible way he can ever come back. Ever." Rose blinks away her last tears, unable to shed any more. The level of distress is now beyond tears.

I stand up abruptly. "No."

She whips around to face me. "What?"

"I said, no."

It seems to offend her, although that wasn't the purpose. "Excuse me?"

"No. The Doctor would never leave Rose Tyler stranded. If there's a way to get back to you, I swear he will find it and he will come back for you. I promise," I grab her arm, my face serious, and say the words until she looks reassured.

This brings a small smile onto her face. "Thanks, Clare."

I throw open the large wooden doors to the study and walk in. Over the last three months, ever since she got here, Rose and I have been spending a lot of time in the study at her house. It's massive. The floor-to-ceiling windows on the west walls that have a beautiful view of the trees behind her house let in a lot of natural light and the walls are lined with stocked bookshelves. Comfy armchairs are placed randomly around the room. Big, rustic, and old, smelling like old books with a touch of ocean air, I feel right at home.

It's only been three months and Rose already feels like my best friend. She tells me about her adventures with the Doctor, and I tell her about both British life in this universe and my old Californian life. The more stories she divulges, the more fascinated I become with time travel, and especially the Doctor. He's an incredible man, and I find myself intrigued with him more often than I am with the stories.

I hate to admit it, but I deeply admire him. It isn't right, because he should be with Rose, but whenever Rose or Mickey talks about him, my heart flutters and I yearn to learn as much as I can about him. The picture Rose has on her cell phone shows him in the distance (and I have identified him as the same man who bumped into me on their first visit to this universe.), and he's so beautiful, however strange that sounds.

Now, she's called me to the study, which happens often. Despite the fact that it's four in the morning, I stumbled across the lawn in the warm September night. She stands at the other end, by the windows, staring out.

Yawning, I gain her attention. "So, what is it that couldn't wait until morning? It better be good."

Rose doesn't turn. She's thinking about the Doctor, probably. Rose usually is. She's still in her pajamas, like me.

"I couldn't sleep. I was in town yesterday, and I stopped by the Torchwood Tower. Apparently, they're open for business and they need a few hands. You've heard of them, right?"

The name sends a wave of dread down my spine. Behind my back, I clasp my hands together and dig my fingernails into my palm - a way of remaining calm, forcing my anger into my fingers. When I withdraw them, I feel specks of blood on my hands. My reply is sharp. "Yes. A while back, their leader, called Anderson, promised me some classified information if I retrieved some in turn for them. It ended up being useless and incorrect."

She ignores my spite. "I know a bit about aliens. The Torchwood on my planet... well, they were pretty malicious, but this Torchwood seems different. After the people overthrew it here, it's become better, a good place for someone like me and an even better place for someone like you," she explains, turning around.

This confuses me. "What?"

"You want to know more about him. I notice Clare, those little glances of admiration when I look at that photograph, the way your breath catches when you say his name. I've known ever since I met you. You don't think I see it, but I do. Being with the Doctor teaches you understand more about humans, how they think, why they do what they do, the origin of those little things nobody else notices. You're in love with the Doctor, and you want to find out who he is," she breathes. It sounds like something between an accusation and a confession.

My breath draws back sharply. I'll neither deny nor confirm her claim, though in my heart I know it to be true. "If you met someone for the very first time, someone you'd never seen before in your entire life, and you felt so nostalgic, so heartbroken, that it forced you to tears, wouldn't you want to find out who they were? When we first met I was positive I'd been around him before, and I just couldn't remember. It was just a little nagging in the back of my head, one that I dismissed, but it was still there. I can't go around forever with this emptiness inside of me, not knowing, and all I can do is find out who he is. Of course I want to know more about him," I can feel my composure breaking and tears flowing into my eyes. She's right, of course. I_ do_ love him, it's what drives me to listen to Rose's long drawls about him so intently. I turn around, sighing heavily.

"What better place to go than Torchwood? I'm not a very reliable source of information. That's why I was thinking; we could join together. Please, Clare. I'm doing it. This could be what you need."

A sharp intake of breath. Footsteps coming closer. From this, I can tell she's sincere with her wishes.

My sleepiness is getting the best of me, and my inability to argue is taking control of my stubbornness.

"Fine." I spit out, trying not to reveal my small excitement.

"I scheduled an interview next week, so be ready by then," she notes. I nod.

Exhausted, I collapse into one of the huge chairs, Rose in the one next to me, and we quickly fall asleep, not waking until we are found in the morning.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

TORCHWOOD

OUTSIDE THE GOVERNMENT, BEYOND THE POLICE.

TRACKING DOWN ALIEN LIFE ON EARTH &

ARMING THE HUMAN RACE AGAINST THE FUTURE.

THE 21ST CENTURY IS WHEN EVERYTHING CHANGES.

AND YOU'VE GOT TO BE READY.

I read the Torchwood motto shakily, still unsure of our decision.

Two days after our interview, Anderson sends us a memo congratulating us on becoming staff at the Torchwood Institute. It wasn't hard to impress the executive who interviewed us, with Rose's time-traveler background and my medical one. Rose had done most of the talking, and with how much she told I'm surprised they didn't lock her up and do experiments. She hadn't even told me about the Bad Wolf incident or consuming the time vortex or any of that.

That next day, Rose and her family disappeared, and I got a text saying the Doctor was calling her and she was going to find him, to say goodbye. Once she returned from the 55 hour drive, completely exhausted, she told me the whole story, including her confession of love which he hadn't been able to return. She looked so broken and after what she'd been through, I don't blame her. Just returning from Bad Wolf Bay, heartbroken and lost, took so much of her courage.

Much harder than the actual interview was the part where we broke the news. Liz, who hates Torchwood, wasn't happy. She didn't trust Anderson, not in the slightest, and I didn't trust him either. Since she'd been with me, Liz knew all about Torchwood and never desired to step foot in it. The only reason she helped me was because of our friendship and my mother. Liz has now grown a bit distant from me recently, and when I tried to stop it, she only got upset at me. Now that I've joined Torchwood, she might never talk to me again. Rose's friendship softens the blow.

Annabelle was glad that I finally found a job that would finish up my medical schooling, which they'd promised to do. It was one of the main reasons I'd finally accepted the job - a faster, but more efficient course in Torchwood would help me to get my degree and become a doctor earlier than normal. My father joked and asked if I was finally going to move out. I don't think he really understands what this job entails for me.

On the morning of our first day, I go for a run. It clears my foggy mind. All I can think about is Rose telling me that the Doctor never can come back for her, as he confirmed that it was impossible on the beach. When I told her he would find a way to get her back, I'm convinced she believed me. It's taken me a while to hold back the selfishness boiling up inside me and try and focus on being Rose's friend rather than the Doctor's admirer, though it still remains a small burden to our friendship. I know Rose belongs with the Doctor, as they seem to be soul mates, but then why do I dream about him at night?

I take a shortcut through the grass, thick dew condensing on my running shoes. The clear morning air stings my sun-burned face, legs, and the parts of my back not covered by my t-shirt. The whole park smells like morning, and fresh-cut grass, a welcome smell in my opinion. I stop to drink from my water bottle when something catches in the corner of my eye.

It's tiny. It's nothing, just a flash of an electric blue glow, cutting off abruptly. But it's just as Rose described it, and just enough to grab my attention. I spin on my heels, mouth dropping open. I see the whip of a long tan overcoat, and my heart stops.

The Doctor is all the way at the other end of the park, sonic screwdriver in one hand, bolting across the park. Tears form in the corners of my eyes, and this time I know they're for Rose. Suddenly, the joy reduces to the immense grief again and I find myself compelled to run after him.

The alarm on my watch goes off, and with a quick glance at it I realize I'm going to be late. There's no time to get back home, just barely enough for me to catch a cab to the Torchwood Tower.

When I look up, the Doctor is gone, as if he never was here. My first thought is that it must have been a hallucination. Perhaps I'm so curious and frustrated about the whole Doctor situation that I invented our little meeting in the park and my eyes refused for it to be false. I had just been thinking of him, (daydreaming, I'll admit) and suddenly, there he was, although I never got close enough to see him. I must be going mad, there's no other explanation.

I run off towards the street, where I call for a cab and climb in with directions for the driver.

Just in case, I decide not to tell Rose.

When I reach the tall building, she's waiting for me at the bottom, all dressed up for the first day of our new job. Her curled blonde hair bounces in the wind and the top button of her shirt is undone.

My outfit earns me a confused look and a raised eyebrow.

I just shrug.

Inside, we are greeted by Anderson, who is considerably warmer than when I associated with him before. I can tell his age now, much less than I believed it to be, because the grim, upset look has gone away. His dark hair is neatly smoothed back and his sudden dimples very prominent.

"Rose, darling! Clare! It's wonderful to see you," he gushes, giving us each a quick, slightly awkward hug and then giving us short introductions to each of the staff members.

"Girls, this is Kat, Molly, Jocelyn, Madeline, David, and Ryan. This is the team, and we're happy to welcome you to it." A prominent, broad shouldered ginger, short, blonde-haired shy girl, a dark-skinned curly-haired woman, a dark-haired woman with short black hair and heavy dark makeup that made her look like she could slit your throat within seconds, a handsome man with a deep tan, and another man, this one with sandy hair and very definite cheekbones, step forward when their names are said and shake our hands. The man named David gives me a small wink, and the girl called Molly shies away from my hand after she gives it a quick shake as if I might suddenly strangle her.

I laugh. "There's this huge tower, hundreds of resources, and you have seven members?"

"We have _eight_ team members. We're short one; apparently, he decided not to show up," He huffs, annoyed at my question. "There are, of course, other employees, who work for us, but their jobs are minor; we run the institute, do the actual fighting and monitoring the major aliens that become a threat, like the Daleks and Cybermen. Anything alien is our division, whether it's peaceful negotiations or swatting them down like a swarm of flies. We're the defenders of Earth, not just members of an organization. Though there's only ten of us, we are the best of the best. Ten is a great number, don't you think?"

Not wanting to irritate him farther, I bite my tongue and nod.

The others scatter, returning to their original stations. Anderson gives us a tour of the tower, except for the top two floors, where we'll start training later. Anderson has neither my trust or my admiration, which he seems to want, but I try not to be too cold towards him. I am highly fascinated by the library, so tall and stocked with so many books that I need a minute to take it all in. Rose leafs through one of the record books lying on the large desk next to a computer screen.

She sighs. "He was right, there's no parallel version of the Doctor. Nothing about him in here."

Once Anderson completes the tour, we stop for a moment, my opportune moment to pull Anderson over. My anger burrier snaps, and I can't contain it any longer. I push him back against the wall and lean in, deathly close, anger practically foaming on my lips. He struggles to escape my grip.

"Why did you tell me my mother was alive? You knew she wasn't!" I shout, swearing a couple times just for good measure. Anderson faces me confidently as I yell at him for a few minutes, smoothing out the crinkles in his suit.

Jocelyn, Ryan, and Kat stick their heads out of doors farther down the corridor, staring at us in confusion for a minute before leaving their offices to watch our argument.

When I finish, I sigh, but Anderson isn't quite finished with me. "You think you're so strong, so special, so powerful, that you don't have to respect me as your leader, that I told you that just to upset you. I have seen things you couldn't dream of, fought battles you wouldn't last five seconds in, and met more extraordinary people than you can count. We've lost some of them, but that does not make you stronger than us. Our scanners counted the Cybermen as living people, so we were sure she was alive and roaming free in Brazil, and I was genuinely sorry for your loss until you decided to question my authority!" He shouts, even angrier than I had been. I shrink back against the wall, waiting for him to hit me, but he doesn't. He continues on yelling. "The next time you ever threaten me, I will personally have your entire family executed!"

"Forgive me, Mr. Anderson," I apologize, for once using the title he prefers. "I was upset over my mother."

He huffs and turns on his heels. Once he's gone, Rose and I walk down the corridor in silence.

Someone comes running after us down the hallway. "Wait!"

I turn around, and the man named David is bolting towards us. He pants as he slides to a stop, breathing heavily. "Hi, Clare, hi Rose, I'm David, and I was wondering if I could walk you to the training room? The elevators are broken, so we'll have to take the stairs."

He seems fairly nice, so I give in, smiling. "Okay. Rose, you coming?"

She shakes her head. "I'll catch up, I'm going to get a drink of water first."

David and I nod, and we walk towards the set of stairs beside the elevator. At first, he doesn't speak, and neither do I. After the first flight, I ask him a question, my voice cutting through the thick silence.

"So...Tell me more about the Torchwood Team."

He looks surprised, but still answers. "Okay, well, there's Kat Winchester. She's twenty-nine, a boxer, and very strong. We're in a bit of an on-and-off relationship at the moment, but I don't think it will last long, because a man named Matthew is currently steady dating her, and I think he's going to propose soon. She lives in a flat in the city with her two brothers, and she has a strong smoking addiction, but uses nicotine patches inside the tower.

"Thirty-seven year old Madeline Scott, or 'Mad' as we like to call her, is an excellent fighter and is very pompous. I'll warn you know, Maddy always has a gun on her. Maddy never lets her guard down, though, because she was attacked in her sleep by her boyfriend, who she was utterly devoted to. It broke her heart. She still loves being in the spotlight and can't resist missions, though one ended disastrously and left her with two broken legs. Even now, she's got a bit of a limp.

"Jocelyn Childs, she's forty and of African descent. I don't know much about Josie - she's kinda shy, and she concentrates more on her family than work a lot of the time. I know she's got three kids named Benny, Laura, and Tiffany, and her husband's name is Brian Childs. She's a valedictorian, top of her class, and she's practically memorized the dictionary.

"Ryan is quite a laugh, he's great to have at parties and stuff. He's got a soft spot for Molly, but she never dates or anything. Ryan always brings his sister to work with him, Selena, and she's funny, too. I don't know, I'm not sure what he's good for, he kinda just brings the humor to Torchwood.

I laugh. David's accent is fun to listen to, even more than Rose's or Liz's. It's sort of a mix between Scottish and British, and I find myself smiling with every word he speaks.

"I'm David King, there's not much to me than meets the eye." His grin in shy and modest, but he faces it towards the ground. "I have a daughter, but she stays with her mother. I didn't even know she existed until last year, and I've never actually met her. Her name is Claire, too, that's what I thought was interesting about you. She was never meant to happen, anyways, enough about me."

"You haven't met Jack yet, but I can guarantee you'll love him! Every woman who's ever met him has, except for a few... every man too, but I won't get started on that yet."

"And then... there's Molly Davis, and she's really shy, so I wouldn't expect to get much out of her, but she's kind, and quiet. You can trust her to keep a secret, because she's actually a pretty good liar. She has a huge secret, but I've vowed never to tell anyone, so I can't help you out there."

I realize we've reached the landing of the top flight of stairs. "Thanks for that." I smile, and he smiles back. "Well, bye Clare. Good luck with training you're gonna need it." With that strange remark, he turns and walks back down the stairs.

Rose is leaning against the wall. "Well, that took you long enough." She smirks.

"How did you get here so fast?"

"I took the service elevator."

I roll my eyes jokingly and we walk down the hallway.

As we approach the door leading to the training facility, my palms grow sweaty and shaky. Although Rose seems to be growing more at home every second, my uneasiness is getting stronger. Questions pop into my head, ones I hadn't thought of yet. Why do they even _need_ a training facility? Will they educate us on how to kill? Will we be fashioned into unlikely weapons? Some of the other solutions I devise are too frightening for me to think about.

My opportunity to ask Rose about this slips away from me as a man exits the room and stands in front of us with a cheeky grin. Before he can say anything, Rose throws her arms around him, and cries, "Jack!"

Jack, as he is called, is handsome and he certainly knows it. His hair is dark, both in color and texture, and his eyes are icy blue, like the sky had been crammed into them. There's no other way to describe his face, other than plain handsome. I see a determined, arrogant, and smart man in his facial expression, but I also see age, stretched across his skin, just like my mental picture of the Doctor.

He obviously doesn't recognize Rose, or understand why she is embracing (and almost choking) him, but he doesn't push her off. I can understand; if a girl as pretty as Rose was hugging me like that, I wouldn't let go of her either. "Captain Jack Harkness, that's me, don't get too excited sweetheart," he drawls in a flirtatious tone, which I can guess he uses often. Rose eases off and frowns.

"Jack, it's me, Rose! How'd you get here? Oh, never mind that, can you help me get back to the Doctor?"

"Doctor who?"

Rose squints at him. "You really don't - oh." Her breath catches. "You're the parallel version. You're not Jack, just another version of him." She tries not to show, but I catch the disappointment that slides off her voice.

Jack shrugs it off. "Rose Tyler! I've heard a lot about you. Apparently, you shouldn't exist. No records of you at all until June. Strange, isn't it?" Jack takes her hand and shakes it firmly. With a wink, he adds, "More like you traveled from a different universe. I like you, Rose Tyler, you already seem quite impossible." Rose nods. Jack must have heard from the people who interviewed us.

He then turns to me, and smiles again. "And that must mean you're Clare Williams. You've been called "the girl that time forgot." I'd like to find out what that means." Another wink.

He isn't fooling me. I pull my hand away. "Good luck with that. I've never been called that in my life."

Jack's eyebrows raise at my accent. "American. Feathers of the same bird, am I right?" He seems to recognize a lost cause and returns to business.

"So! I'm going to be your personal trainer. Here at Torchwood, we need our members fit and active, and able to operate a gun and other things like that. Should be easy enough."

Jack leads us into the training room and my mouth literally drops open. So vast, so huge, it's beyond description and very bright. For a place where people are transformed to become ruthless killers and trained to use weapons that can take a life, it's too bright and airy, too much like a regular gym. My ideas of Torchwood are growing darker by the minute and this place isn't really helping.

Rose and Jack seem right at home, amongst the guns stacked against the walls and manuals full of alien weaknesses and how to exploit them. I suppose they're both used to this type of thing, but since I am not, I feel out of place.

Jack gives us a short lecture on the things we'll be doing, and my eyebrows raise in more than a few places. After that, we take ten minutes to warm up and then our training commences.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Ten months pass after our first day of initiation. Rose and I become strong and fit, although Rose might've already qualified for that. Eventually I get used to the guns and even attempt at the shooting range one day. I manage to knock three targets down out of ten. Jack educates me in guns and shooting, and in no time I can handle and shoot a gun as easily as if I had been doing it my whole life. My aim also improves.

Rose, of course, was already a pro the second we entered the compound. She tips me off, helps with my accuracy, and gives me a hand whenever I need it. Although I do love Rose, I feel she is just too good and sometimes she has that need to rub it in my face, though it may not be intentional. It seems as if I'm the small child trying to learn something from their older, more experienced sibling. Secretly, it infuriates me, although I never let it show.

The basic level of psychic training we receive is an easier course to pass than the physical, and it only takes me about a month and Rose three weeks. While Rose studies first aid and some basic helpful medical tips, Jack helps me to push further in my medical career, and my dream of being a full-time Doctor inches closer.

Throughout this time, we are needed thrice out of the seven times we have an alien encounter. All seven were minor, and not as close as Rose had hoped. The job doesn't seem as action-packed as Rose expected, but I would even dare to call it fun.

Since we've gotten to know them, the crew have become like family to both Rose and me. Staff meetings, where we 'discuss progress and future developments' are usually spent talking, eating, and laughing. Anderson is the only person I haven't grown to love over the year, mostly because he's so cold and unforgiving. My outburst must have changed his bright and fun view on our coming.

I'm in the library, reading a textbook on Terraforming. It's fascinating, but excruciatingly boring at the same time. Rose wanders about the library, picking up books from the section labeled "T" and flipping through them. She's supposed to be doing research on Terraforming as well, but she can't focus today.

My attention is slipping when Rose slams a huge book down on her desk.

"What are you doing?" I asked, slightly annoyed.

"I'm researching. Are you almost finished with that Terraforming project? I need all the help I can get on this."

"I can't. It's Alaya's fifth birthday today, Annabelle and I are giving her a party." However, I'm too curious, my book slides closed, and I walk over to Rose's table. "Aren't you supposed to be doing Terraforming - what are you doing?" My confused brain asks when I see the book she's leafing through, labeled _How to Time Travel for Beginners._

"I want to find the Doctor," Rose replies casually, turning the page with a flick of her wrist. The calmness and subtlety in her tone doesn't match my reaction at all. My mouth drops open and my hands lose their grip on the textbook, which falls to the ground with a loud _thud_.

"Rose!" I shout. "It's impossible! You know that!" I circle around, flabbergasted, to the front of her desk where I put my hands on her shoulders and shake her.

"You can never go back! I thought, after a year, you would have gotten used to a normal life. Don't tell me you're even attempting at having a crack at it again, Rose!" Even I can hear the desperateness in my words.

Rose shakes off my hands and pulls down the sleeve of her t-shirt. She sounds determined, and that worries me, because when Rose is determined she can do anything. "There's got to be a way. I might not look like it, but I'm losing my mind, Clare. I'm not coping as well as you think. I just need to see him again, once more."

Her eyes tell the horribly sad story I find even more tragic every time she tells it, and my gaze drops. Rose gives me that sad look, and I can't bear to look at her. I know I will cave in if I do.

It's not that I'm against Rose going back to the Doctor. I know it's hard for her, and she misses it a lot. In fact, she'd probably be better off having her Doctor back. However, it really isn't possible, and if she was beginning to think it was, she might be going crazy. She'd even admitted it herself. But, Rose had told me enough about her adventures to understand the danger in this. There is no physically possible way she could get back without severely harming or destroying both universes, or causing some kind of major destruction. Even worse, she could get trapped in the void, or end up getting hurt. My medical education didn't cover things like that. What would we do if Rose ended up with one half of her in this universe, and half in the other?

From the stories Rose has told me of her travels, it probably wouldn't be safe for her to return, either. She's been close to dying and almost been killed many, many times, and I don't want to put her life in jeopardy by helping her return. Even if she didn't die, eventually she'd have to leave; all his companions did. For Rose's sake, I couldn't let her heart get broken again.

"Please, Clare, I've got to try. One more hug, one more time running my fingers through his hair, can't I at least have that? I love him, I _need_ him. And he needs me."

I give her a warning glare.

Rose turns around and walks back to the shelf, continuing to pull off books on dimensions and time travel. "Never mind. I don't need your consent. You can disapprove all you want, nothing's going to stop me from finding my way back to him. It's what the Doctor would do."

Finally, I can't stand it anymore. I've heard this phrase continuously throughout our time together and it's getting sorely old. "Is that all you do, Rose? Just, _what the Doctor would do?_ No deviation, no independent thought? That's all? I mean, the Doctor's great, but you don't have to always be like him, Rose."

I breath out, slowly. I've probably gone too far, but I'm not finished yet. "You just have to accept that you're never going to see him again."

Rose doesn't turn around. "You don't know him. You don't love him. You don't know how wonderful he is, and if you did you'd understand."

I take my book and walk towards the door of the library. Just before I leave, I pause. I feel as if I knew him, even though we'd never even met. And I've seen him, even if it wasn't real, that day in the park so long ago. I watched him, and I know how he is and how he works.

She's wrong about another thing. I do love him. I don't even try to hide it anymore. Ever since I first saw him I knew there was something about him, and Rose's tales of adventures with him just confirmed my feelings for a man I'd never meet. I'm not even sure where the admiration originates from, but I know I'm not supposed to feel that way. She knows it too.

"For all I know, I do know him. And, however impossible it might seem, I do - " I can't force myself to say I love him. " I'm so sorry, but you can't go back, Rose. You can never leave," I choke, my voice finally catching and breaking as I leave the library.

The humming of my Jeep distracts my racing mind while I drive home, and it allows me to concentrate on the road instead of my emotional instability over Rose's decision. It doesn't work after five minutes, and I start panicking again. _She hasn't fully thought it through yet_, I console myself, _once she has she'll stop thinking about it._ I can't help thinking it seems a shallow and inconsiderate choice.

Slamming on the brakes at another red light, I breath out steadily as another realization hits me. Although Rose going back will be dangerous, it's the right thing for her to do; I'm the one that has got it wrong. She's not being shallow if she wants to return to her home, with all her friends and her true love, where she belongs.

It hits me like a brick wall; I'm the selfish one, the one that wants Rose to stay so I can have her as a friend, since I have few here as close as her. I'm the one who yearns to be the Doctor's companion, and desires to travel with him though I know Rose deserves and has earned that title. Selfishness tends to overcome me in my bleakest hours, but is this really a good time? Must I take it out on my best friend, the one who has no need for more of it when she's been through so much? Rose has told me the stories of her adventures, and two things she'd been told jump out at me; something the famous Madame de Pompadour (that's just, wow!) had said to Rose, when Rose had told her the clockwork robots were going to try to kill her - "One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel," meaning the Doctor in this case. Also, a late companion of the Doctor's back in Rose's universe, Sarah Jane Smith, had told Rose that "some things are worth getting your heart broken for," referring to Rose's question if she should stay or not.

Cursing myself, I turn into the driveway of my home and put the Jeep into park. My keys slide from the ignition with a flick of my hand and I walk up to the door, unaware of my surroundings, but my scolding mind firm. I was going to help Rose find her way back to the Doctor if it killed me.

The second I opened the door, I'm knocked over by Alaya. She throws her arms around me and doesn't let go until I swing her up into my arms.

It's hard to believe she's five years old now. I know, it sounds cheesy, but she's grown so fast. She now has long, constantly tangled deep brown hair and brown eyes, with a splash of dark freckles across her long nose. She talks all the time, is tall for her age, and never wears any shoes unless it's her cowboy boots Annabelle got her for her third birthday (which barely fit her now). Alaya is smart and imaginative, and certainly very creative.

She doesn't know who her mother is or what happened to her, since we haven't told her, so she calls me Mom, even though I'm not. She is the brightest light in my life, and I love her as if she were my own child.

Alaya grins at me. "Mommy," she laughs, "It's my birthday today!"

I act surprised. "Really? How old are you now, sweetheart?"

She holds up a hand with all her tiny fingers outstretched. "I'm this many fingers now! Five!" Alaya sticks her chin out, proud of her accomplishment.

Annabelle appears in the doorway. She looks tired, and there are circles underneath her eyes. She hasn't slept a lot since my dad died last month, but she manages to stay awake during the day. I try to help her by watching Alaya for her when she's too tired, and work around the house, but she insists that she's fine and she doesn't need any rest.

It was hard for all of us, but Annabelle had it worst. Though we don't talk about it much, she seems in constant distress, but somehow manages to keep a smile on her face. It did change her, a lot; this Annabelle is much different from the one I remember.

I stay at the house for only as long as I'm needed, and then I kiss Alaya on the forehead, promise her to give her my present later, and drive back to Torchwood Tower in my Jeep. Rose told me she'd be staying late, so I can expect her to be there.

Halfway up the elevator, it dings to a stop and David climbs on, smiling when he sees me. David fancies me, as Rose puts it, and he has occasionally brought me flowers. He's really sweet, and I do appreciate his support. However, one day he surprised me with a kiss, and it just didn't feel right, so I had to turn his offer down. I don't mean to sound rude or prejudiced, but I don't feel anything between us. Besides, I find it hard to be devoted to someone right now, and it's especially unfair for David if half the time I'm daydreaming about the mysterious Doctor.

David starts asking me about Alaya, and I put a smile on my face and chat half-heartedly with him. I know I should be paying attention to what he's saying, but I can't help my mind from wandering. It isn't until David frowns and asks me if I'm alright that I snap back to reality and focus on him. After I nod, he asks another question.

"If Alaya's birthday is tonight, why are you here? You clocked out earlier."

I shrug. "I have an apology to make, and I'm entitled to help Rose with a very complicated project of hers."

He frowns. David is our teacher of sorts, he gives us the assignments and helps us research subjects. All the projects given to us are ones he has assigned, except the top-secret ones from Anderson, the ones that require a medic's hand or a time traveler's wisdom. This is neither, but it still confuses David.

"What project? I haven't given either of you a project!" He says, furrowing his eyebrows.

I shrug. "It's top secret. I can't tell you, unless Rose asks you for help."

"Well, if you need anything, I'll be here, in my office," he says, sighing, proceeded by him stepping out of the elevator. Suddenly, as the doors start to close, his face lights up, and he beams at me. "Wait! So, I was wondering if you -" He is cut off by the elevator doors.

"Was he asking me out on a date?" I whisper in confusion to myself, hoping it wasn't what the situation had suggested. With my luck, he probably had been, and I didn't really think I could fit that into my life right now, and the - other thing (which I was trying not to think about) - also conflicted in that particularly sore subject.

Trying to forget about it, a different subject comes into mind - my doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. It seems childish, but I'm incredibly nervous, and my reason is for the other day, when I was practicing with my pistol in the training room. Impressed with my perfect ten out of ten, I had been reloading when I had started to feel weak. A strong pain had overcome my whole body, and after I'd collapsed, screaming in pain, I realized something and then blacked out. When I'd woken up, I was fine, but it had scared me enough to schedule a doctor's appointment as soon as possible.

Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a capsule and stared at the pills inside. I hadn't taken them that day, which is what I realized and hurried to shove one into my mouth.

I should probably explain about the pills. The day after I arrived in London, I woke up to find a small bottle, exactly like the one I was holding right now, on my dressing table. It was filled with small black pills, the size and shape of tic-tac's and labeled:

_Ms. Clare Williams_

_Take a single pill each day._

_Never take more than one a day or skip a day, as the results could be FATAL._

_Your supply will be replenished monthly._

_Please, my dearest, do this for me._

_Love, a friend._

Every bottle says the same thing, and has exactly 31/30/28 pills, depending on the month. Believe me, I've counted. What's even stranger is that on the last night of the month, I wake up to a newly filled capsule. I can't find out who's giving them to me, and I've tried everything. I did a fingerprint scan on the plastic container, but there were no fingerprints. Once, I stayed up all night, but no one came, and the next night, there it was. It bothers me that I have no confirmation of whoever is trying to keep me alive, and is also calling me _my dearest._

At first, I freaked out (although I did take one, because apparently it would kill me not to, plus they tasted like black licorice, which is my favorite type of candy), and took the thing to the pharmacy where they experimented on the pills to find out what they were. They couldn't confirm what the pills did, but they knew that they were extremely healthy and encouraged me to keep taking them.

I hadn't missed a day, and didn't know what would happen if I didn't take them until my experience the other day.

There's some strange side effects, too. People can't tell me that they're normal pills, though, because ever since I've started taking them, I haven't gotten sick _at all_. Not even a cold, not a runny nose, nothing. Also, the second I take one, my mind is completely blank for a few seconds, and I even forget my name. Could you explain that?

Shuddering, I take one last look at the label, reading the second-to-last line again, and shove it back into my bag. This has been enough stress for one night.

As the elevator doors slide open, I smile with a determined glare in my eyes. Rose, who is standing outside, realizes what I'm doing and her face lights up. I feel like I could spit fire. I tell her, "We're gonna get you back to him if it kills us!" 


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

When I wake up, someone's arms are wrapped around me. Groggily, I glance up to see David, still asleep, lying underneath me on the library bench, enclosing me in his arms. I must admit, it feels nice, and although I'm awake I don't move.

The previous night's events filter back into my mind, and I lift my head up to glance around the library. David, Molly, Ryan, Jack, Maddy, and I had all agreed to help Rose with her project, and we had been up all night researching things to find out what we had to do. We'd stayed so late, I'd fallen asleep. From a glance around the room, I can see everyone else except for Rose has also crashed somewhere in the room, and I'm guessing no one else is very comfortable either, with the exception of me and David's allegiance.

Rose stands alone, pacing before the windows, unaware I'm awake. She holds something in her hands, but from this angle I can't tell what it is. If anyone would stay awake, it doesn't figure to be Rose.

For six months we've been trying to work this out, and we've gotten practically nowhere. Each day, Rose gets more discouraged. She's practically given up by now, and if my fellow Torchwood members and I persevering, the project will be terminated.

I can't let that happen.

The windows are inky black, so it's still night. Stars dot the firmament, and I smile at the familiarity. I've always had a fascination for astronomy, and I can tell you the names of most of the constellations. My attention fixes on Polaris, the North Star.

Then, out of nowhere, it completely blinks out.

I'm shocked enough to wriggle quickly out of David's arms, and I rush to the window where I put my hands up against the glass and stare out in wonder. Out of the corner of my eye I see Rose notice me, wipe her eyes, and come towards me, leaning against the glass as well.

"I didn't know you were awake. What's wrong?" She inquires, studying my eyes.

I point in shock towards the spot where Polaris was, gazing in wonder. "Did you see that?"

She shakes her head.

"Right there - where I'm pointing, you see - is where Polaris, the North Star, is supposed to be. It's always there, it never changes position in our sky. Constant. All stars appear fixed due to the parallax effect and Polaris's position almost lines up exactly with the North Pole, within one degree of it! So, it appears to never move, even though it's always slightly shifting, and someday it won't even be the North Star anymore.

"It was right there, a few seconds ago, and then it just... disappeared. " My elbow is propped against the glass, and while my mind races I massage my forehead with my hand.

Rose sounds distracted. "But... where's it gone then?"

"I don't know, I really don't, I don't think it would just go out like that, even if it is a supergiant. I get the feeling there's something worse behind this," I reply, sighing.

When I see Rose staring at me, I frown and ask her what's wrong.

She shakes her head indignantly. "You sound like the Doctor, when you talk like that. That's exactly how he looks, and how he talks, and just.." her voice breaks and she gasps, covering her mouth as tears form in her eyes, making them sparkle. She really does have pretty eyes, a deep sort of golden-brown, flecked with lighter specks of amber here and there, I realize but not focus on as I hug Rose and stare into her eyes, seriously.

"Rose, I have never been more sincere in my life. I promise to you, on my life, that I will find a way to get you back to him." With a glance at the milky sky, I add, "Maybe even sooner than we thought.

My attention is caught by another cluster of stars, which start to flicker out, and I gasp. "They're going out. We have to hurry, Rose. We have to get you to the Doctor. " I can feel my head pounding with worry, and suddenly the pain intensifies so strongly, that I instantly grab my head and fall to my knees breathing heavily. Rose asks me repeatedly if I'm okay, but by the time I can manage to answer it's stopped just as momentarily as it started. She helps me to my feet, and then looks out the window.

"It's stopped. Did you do that?"

"No, I can't have. I just had a headache, that's all, it's been killing me all day." I'm not being exactly truthful. I did have a headache, but it hadn't been nearly that painful until a few seconds ago. If I had time, I would worry about it, but now I'm determined to help Rose, and I focus on that instead.

As we walk back towards the group, ready to get our hands on some good material, Rose runs into a table with her hip, knocking some papers off and causing her to yelp in pain and back away. While picking up the fallen papers, I notice the words written across the top of one of the bundles of papers, held together by several paperclips.

Holding it up to a lamp, I can see the statistics better and as I read the words, my face goes from a look of confusion to absolute joy.

I turn around and run to Rose waving the papers around excitedly. If the others weren't still asleep, I'd be yelling and shouting her name.

"Rose! I know how we can get you back! I found these papers by chance, on the floor, and look at them!" I hold them out, bouncing off the walls, and when she takes them, I anticipate her reaction as she reads the first bar graph on that front page.

"Density of Universe Dimension Walls..." she mumbles, squinting in the dark. Flipping the next page, she reads the title on that one, too. "A Guide to the Time Vortex and Crossing the Dimensions..." Reading page after page, until it pieces together in her mind and she realizes what I'm suggesting.

"Clare!" She beams at me.

For a second we're like little girls. Rose and I throw our arms around each other, jumping up and down and shouting in happiness. We've forgotten about the others, but that doesn't matter, because we've figured it out and nothing can stop us now.

"We're gonna build ourselves a time machine!" I reply, laughing.

"They're finally finished!" Someone shouts, tapping the last bolt into place. Stepping back, we admire our work, cheer, and laugh, proud of our accomplishment. It's been almost two years since the Battle of Canary Wharf for Rose, one month short of the anniversary. For the past five months, the Team has worked endlessly to build these - fifteen dimension cannons, small circular discs with yellow buttons in the center and metal rimming. They will take you further or backward into the future and to anywhere in Great Britain, but the range is limited, since the real purpose is to send you into different universes. The building was very complicated, don't get me started on it. All I'll say is that we tapped into Rose's memories, specifically when she absorbed the Time Vortex, and used the TARDIS information she'd received, combining it with our knowledge of the first versions, of which none are left. We only skimmed the surface of the information enough to get the things working, but there was so much my computer crashed and we had to program them by hand.

Rose is absolutely ecstatic, and pumps her fist into the air, rejoicing. I'm so happy for her in this moment, that I forget about my growing adoration for the Doctor and hug her with tears of joy in both our eyes. "Rose! You're going back!" We all yell happily, more or less, overjoyed and more excited than children on Christmas morning. Rose, Kat, Jocelyn, David, Molly, Ryan, Jack, Maddy, and I gather together and all hug each other, unable to wipe the ridiculous smiles off our faces.

We pull up folding chairs in an empty space in the center of the workroom, laughing as David pours champagne into nine empty glasses and passes them out. As soon as I've got everybody's attention, I raise my glass and give the toast, saying, "To Rose Tyler and the Doctor! Rose, you deserve to be with the Doctor more than anyone else, and I'm so glad to say that we have managed to make it possible again! To the Doctor, in the TARDIS, with Rose Tyler!" Everyone repeats the toast and sips their champagne lightly, and I confirm in my heart that this is the best moment of my life. Glancing around at everyone's faces, I see the Torchwood Team, that I love more than life itself: David, sitting to my right, his warm brown eyes and unusually unshaven face practically glowing; Kat, who's freckled cheeks were dotted with tears of happiness to match everyone else's, and her long ginger hair curled down her back, the first time I've seen it down in a long time; Jocelyn, who is talking enthusiastically to Kat and looks like she's about to explode from happiness; Molly, the shyest girl in the world, and yet even she is beaming and laughing so hard it fills me with joy; Maddy, who is giving off a small smirk (that's about as excited as she gets), and hugging Rose; Ryan is grinning, and finishing off the last of his champagne, he pulls Molly to her feet unexpectedly, and kisses her, pulling her closer in. Molly's eyes widen in surprise, but after a moment she gives in and kisses him back. We all cheer, since all of us have been waiting for this to happen. Jack claps Ryan on the back when they pull away, and he gives Rose a quick kiss on the cheek, who blushes.

Which reminds me, Rose is the happiest of us all. She sits on my left, crying and laughing with joy. It's impossible not to beam when you look at her overjoyed face. She's going back to him, back to the Doctor, the man she loves with all her heart.

She stands now, and makes her toast. "To my very best friends, the Torchwood Team! Without any of you, this wouldn't be possible. I especially want to thank Clare for all you've done for me, so without further ado, to Torchwood and friendship!"

After about an hour of celebration, I call attention to myself. Holding the dimension cannons by the chains, I give everybody one, and slip one around my own neck.

"As a reward for our hard work, we all get one, and we can go with Rose back to the other universe briefly to see her off. I don't know what we'll do with them after that, but if the need arises, we can use them.

I continue, just as Molly raises her hand. "They do need half an hour to charge, however, so be careful with when and why you use them. You don't want to end up somewhere you'll get stuck in and will die before your thirty minutes have passed."

Molly says, "Aren't we going to test them first, I mean, before we rip a hole in the walls of the universe? What if they malfunction and send us into the sun for half an hour?"

Rose chuckles. "Of course we will, we're not that daft." I clear my throat and continue. "So, anyways, we're going to test them on -" My sentence is cut short by a blaring alarm. It's so loud it gets into your head, screaming intensely over and over again, almost painfully. Everyone throws their hands over their ears and shrinks to the ground, trying to cut it out, because of how horrible it is.

Once it finally stops ringing, we scramble to our feet and look around in fear, because that alarm can only mean one thing; we're under attack and it's serious.

It's a lot more serious than I even expected. Lined up in the lobby of the Tower, single-file and waiting for Anderson's orders, I have a clear view out the glass front doors, and what I see isn't pleasing.

Giant mosquito-like bugs fly through the sky, menacing and deadly, attacking the screaming people in the streets, pinning them down with their long proboscises and sucking them almost completely dry. The creatures are horrendous to see, and it's horrifying to watch. According to Anderson, these things are called Sanguilamen, and they basically are gigantic mosquitoes. Since we were in the basement, we didn't notice them, but in that period of time they came and are currently attacking the Earth. The sky has turned a ghostly shade of orange.

David grabs my hand, squeezes it, and drops it again, a silent promise that it would turn out alright.

"Jack, stand to attention, sir." Anderson barks. Jack quickly scurries over and stands by him, and as he tries not to fall over, I can see he's had a little too much of that champagne. I thank my common sense for staying sober, so at least one of us will be able to stay present during this crisis.

"As you can see, we need to take immediate action. I've already explained the creatures, and I'll now let Jack give your assignments and you must immediately attend to them. We're not sure what their weaknesses are yet, but Jocelyn and I are working on it. Jack?" After Jack starts talking, Jocelyn and Anderson walk back into Anderson's office to continue working on their analysis.

"... and Clare and Ryan, UNIT officer Mary Jones is bringing a couple attacked bodies with her so you guys can evaluate them and find out what we can do to cure them..." Jack says, but I don't hear the rest as Ryan and I glance at each other, nodding.

After heading up to the infirmary, Ryan and I walk inside to find a woman leaning over one of the five bodies lying on the slabs, covered in clothes. She has deep, flawless caramel skin and silky black hair pulled up into a tight unforgiving bun. Her outfit is professional, slacks and a button-up suit top. From the doorway, I can still see her upset frown that means this isn't going to be easy.

She manages to plaster a fake smile on her face, and shakes our hands. "Hi, I'm Doctor Mary Jones. You must be Clare and Ryan, right?" When we nod, she leads us over to the body. "Let's get to work."

The man lying on the slab has tan skin, but he looks sickly. He has blonde hair, a thin face, and a strong body. Even though he's tan, his skin is a paler shade than is healthy, almost albino. Ryan takes his pulse, and confirms that he's still alive.

"We need to take a blood sample, but first we need to find out how much blood he has left, it could be fatal," Mary explains, bringing up the man's, apparently named Keith Clark, blood type on the computer screen.

After a minute of evaluation and testing, we discover he's lost about 68% of his blood, and is still bleeding out of a wound in the arm where he was bitten, which is very bad news for us and him. Molly, Ryan, and I do tests on all the other victims, and they're all in the 50-60% range, and we're starting to panic, because there's nothing we can really do now except try and stop the bleeding, hopefully keep them alive.

"What do we do now?" Ryan asks, feeling helpless.

I reach into my jean back pocket, pulling out my phone, and just when I'm about to call Rose and ask her for help (my usual last resort), an idea dawns on me. It's a crazy idea, and it probably won't work, yet by now it seems to be the only option. Not to mention, it might mean some very bad things for me, but I have to try. Guilt gets to me again, once I realize that I can't let any of these people die. If they did, I would blame myself endlessly.

I spin on my heel and run to the door, turning before I exit and ask Ryan, "Where did I leave my bag this morning? I asked you to remember!"

They look at me like I'm crazy, but I grin as Ryan replies, "In the staff room downstairs. Clare, what are you doing? Come back!"

I'm so pumped, I don't listen to her and run down all fifteen flights of steps (elevator takes too long) and bolt into the staff room, grabbing my purse and taking out the thing I had in mind. It's our only hope, but as I think about it, my confidence boosts more and more.

Today, on June 3rd, I'm going to save the human race.

I slide to an abrupt stop in front of an open window, just a crack open, but enough to hear the plentiful screams and see the death and destruction outside. More and more people are being bitten, and some I can already see are dead.

_There won't be enough,_ I realize, my heart falling with disappointment.

Clinging to the small capsule filled with the pills that keep me alive, I gaze up into the stars pleading for a miracle. _Please, please, please, please, if I've ever needed you more than I need you know, the one who calls me my dearest, I need you now. Help me. _


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

I run back up the stairs, all the way to the infirmary. My hopes are high, but I know he (I'm _pretty _sure it's a he) will help me. The pills in the bottle I'm holding are shaking, and the sound of plastic clinking against pills is comforting.

When I skid to a stop in front of the doors, I see that Ryan and Mary have been joined by a frantic-looking Rose. They all turn, and Ryan whispers, staring at me, "We thought you'd gone insane!" When Rose sees what I'm holding, she shakes her head angrily multiple times. Rose knew what the pills do for me and was there when I forgot to take one.

Rose tears the pills out of my hand, "What if it doesn't work? You know what will happen to you, and I can't let you do that! I can't lose you, I've lost too many other people!"

"I have to try. If it's the only way of saving them, I've got to do it," I reply, glaring at her resolutely. She can't change my mind, and she seems to understand this as she steps back and hands me back the bottle. "Fine. Just be careful, okay?"

Ryan and Mary stare at them, confused. "What do they do?"

"They're immensely healthy, I haven't gotten sick once in all the time I've taken them. Hopefully, they can restore the bloodstream and bring the levels back to normal."

"That's impossible, though!"

"Ryan, you work at Torchwood. Don't you sort of expect this sort of thing by now? They're probably not from Earth, anyways. Now isn't the best time to question it," I respond, while focusing on the bottle. After unscrewing the lid and letting a single pill slide out onto my hand, I stare at it, hoping Keith Clark likes black licorice, and slide it into his mouth, forcing him to swallow it.

Mary gasps, watching as the color begins to return to his skin, the bleeding in his arm stops, and his body heats up. He's shaking and, we watch in wonder as Keith sits up, rubbing his eyes and gingerly feeling the wound in his arm. "What happened? Why am I in a hospital?"

My smile covers my whole face, and I jump up, shouting, "We can do it! Come on, guys, let's get these things passed out!"

Rose takes four pills and gives each of the other patients one. They all have the same reaction as Keith, and I explain that I'm going to give Anderson the news before running down the stairs again, all the way to the bottom floor, where I rush into Anderson's office without even knocking on the door.

In his office, Jocelyn and Anderson look up and see me. I grin, and shout out, "We've figured out how to save all the bitten people! Can you start having people send them in to us? We can save them!"

Anderson snaps out of his bitter, upset look, and smiles coldly. "Of course, I'll have David get started on that, he's not doing anything remotely important." Smirking, he coughs and changes the subject. "Look, Clare, we need to you to do us a favor -"

He's cut off by the buzz that can only mean someone's come through the front door, which is strange. We usually don't get customers in the middle of a giant mosquito swarm.

"Get back to me on that, I'm going to go see who that was."

I stop short outside the office, reaching down to tie my beat-up Chucks, which are unlaced and causing me to trip over them every five feet. As I lace them, I can hear footsteps coming towards me and I see that whoever is approaching me has black leather dress shoes. He stops a few feet in front of me, and I straighten up, approaching him with confidence.

It's not what I expected, but it's not horrible, either. The man has curly dark hair, and wears a very long navy blue coat. His cheekbones are very sharp and prominent, and he regards me with cold, blue-green eyes. Actually, I'm not even sure what color they are, but it's beautiful. Last but not least, his arms are full of the pill bottles, probably enough for everyone in the country.

"Clare. You need these, and I would hope that you use them sensibly, as this is the last of the supply." I take the pills, but stare in wonder at him.

"You're the man that's been giving me these? Why?" I ask in a whisper, my voice hardly audible.

"No, you've mistaken me for a colleague of mine that you're thinking of. His identity would rather remain hidden, so he asked me to bring them to you as a favor. I'm just providing him with my assistance, don't think too much of it."

With that, he turns on his heel and heads back out the door before I can ask any more questions.

David approaches me from behind, taking some of them, and helps me carry them quickly up the stairs. Once we are back in the infirmary, David rushes out, and soon the patients start being carried in, and we give them all one of the pills from the bottles, bringing the life into every victim.

Although the infirmary has been cooled down, I feel warmth spread throughout me and smile the entire time, explaining to all the healed people what's happened and healing more and more people. I still don't know who my savior is, a friend of the man that aided me, but I couldn't care less if I never found out. I know he exists and that he'll always be there to help me, and that's all I could hope for for now. I don't even bother to worry about the strange man telling me that these were the last of the pill supplies, and I won't be receiving any more after they run out. This might be my last day to live.

It isn't until we've revived almost everyone brought in to us that I remember Anderson asking me to do him a favor. Just as I'm about to apologize to the blissfully happy-looking Rose, Ryan, and Mary, Anderson bursts into the room, scowling at me.

"I asked you if you would lend me a favor! It's been nearly half an hour! _Ms._ Clare Williams," he says, rolling the Ms. intentionally, "I would appreciate if you would do as you are asked and come to my office!" Anderson reprimands, talking down to me like a disappointed father. I make a face when his back is turned, and follow him, beckoning to Rose to help me. She gives in, and with Ryan tagging along behind, they follow Anderson and me.

Except for a couple of us, mostly all of the team members are gathered downstairs, which is where Anderson leads us. Jack gives me a slight nod, and David smiles warmly but grimly when he sees me.

"Clare, Rose, and Ryan have figured out how to save all the victims, and they've been working on that, so that issue is resolved. Jack and Molly, thank you for..." My attention trails off and my mind starts to wander. It's not until Anderson's last words reach my ears that my focus snaps back.

"We _have_ found a way to kill these things, or at least get them off the planet, but it's going to be harder than we expected. I was going to ask Ms. Williams to do it, but she ignored my question, so I'll open it up to the whole team." As he talks, Anderson patrols the line very strictly, surveying our downcast eyes and looking for weaknesses to exploit or someone willing to do whatever he was suggesting.

"Jocelyn and I received a visit from a man in a long blue coat and he -"

"I saw him! He gave us the pills for the patients!" I blurt out, everyone turning their heads to look at us. Anderson nods.

"Yes, he returned shortly after you left. Anyways, his name was Sherlock Holmes -"

This time Rose interrupts by bursting out laughing. "Seriously, though? His name is actually Sherlock Holmes? Are his parents big Arthur Conan Doyle fans?"

We all stare at Rose, worried about her. I have no idea what she's talking about, and it makes no sense.

Anderson seems even more ticked off now than he did before. "Rose Marion Tyler you _will_ keep your mouth shut!"

Rose nods solemnly, understanding his seriousness.

"Mr. Holmes gave us a valuable bit of information that he received from a colleague, which stated that the only way to kill these things was to use a certain type of poison, but it hasn't been invented yet. It's about 3 months in the near future, in an abandoned UNIT base on the outskirts of Dover. If we send two people into the future, which is currently swarming with the Sanguilamen, we can get the poison and use it to kill them.

"That's a paradox, though, if we kill them all now, won't the Sanguilamen in the future not exist, even though we're going to fight them right now?" Rose points out, stepping forward.

"Well, the whole thing will reset itself, making it possible for the UNIT members to create this poison, which admittedly has been placed there from a different part of time and space, how we don't know. We also don't know how to send you forward, but with Rose's background it shouldn't be too hard.

This is where Rose steps forward again, holding up her dimension jump by the chain, and she smiles, although it looks forced. "We can, Anderson, we've got these. A press of the center button takes the user to the desired place and time, and though we've not tested them yet, it's worth a shot, don't you think?"

"What if they don't work correctly?" Jack inputs in an attempt to stop Rose who had already put her hand on the cannon.

Although I regret it soon after and curse myself quietly for doing it, I come forth and raise my hand. "That's a risk I'm willing to take. Send me, I can do it, and I've got nothing to lose." Of course, without any more pills, I will probably die anyways, and strangely I'm not scared. I want to do what I can, and this will be a good contribution to the sake of saving humanity.

Molly timidly looks around and joins me, standing by my side. "I'll go, too." I don't want her to go, not because she's small but because she has too much to risk, unlike me. Rose will be returning to the Doctor, a couple called the Watsons will be adopting Alaya officially this next weekend, I've already finished my medical schooling, Annabeth is going away for a couple years in order to be alone for a while, and I have accepted the fact that I'll never know the man I'm deeply in love with. A tear slides down my cheek at the thought, but it goes unnoticed by anyone else.

I hadn't wanted to think about it, but I'd already written Rose a letter, one that had dug at the pain deep inside me. About six months ago, I'd told Rose that I had gotten over the Doctor, and only believed in Rose and the Doctor being together, and while the second part was true, I was nowhere near losing my devotion to this incredible man. It was a lie, but it ridded Rose of any doubts of my loyalty, and sometimes a lie is better than the truth.

Truth was, I've had a hard time living with myself, although I never speak of it and try not to think about it. There's some sort of unwanted depression in the back of my mind, eating away at me every day, turning my love into fear of losing, my guilt into a pain that makes me so upset it almost reduces me to hurting myself to get rid of it (but since I'm against self-harm, I've always held back), and even my daydreams of the Doctor are poisoned with thoughts of being rejected, or hated, or shunned, or even unwanted. After Rose, Alaya, and Annabelle are all gone, what will be left for me here? I don't know how much longer I will be able to stand it, whatever's killing me slowly and softly, but surely.

The letter was my final goodbye, a confession, and a message to pass on, that I plan to plant on Rose before she leaves for good.

I don't hold Molly back, though, I don't control her life and it really is her decision.

"If anyone's going to risk their lives out there it's me," Rose nods defensively.

I shake my head, wondering when she will realize we can't let her die just after we finished finding a way to get her back. "You have to return to the Doctor, Rose, he's your everything and while I appreciate your offer, you deserve him and I think you really do need him."

Rose understands, and although she doesn't respond I can see it in her eyes.

Holding the dimension cannon between my fingers, I stare at it, listen drearily to Anderson's instructions and letting him hand me a gun, for the purpose of my protection only. Specifically, it's a blaster, but it doesn't matter to me. It's small, easy to carry, and won't take long to reload. It ends up in a holster strung around my waist.

My thoughts are wandering elsewhere as Rose gives me a faithful good luck hug and wish, followed by the rest of the crew telling us to make sure we come back. I promise them of my return, but my promises are empty, though I try to make them sound sincere.

David smiles, brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, and whispers, "Good luck out there, Clare. Maybe once they see how beautiful you are, maybe they'll spare your life."

I wrap my arms around him and pull David closer into a tight hug, my head nestled into his chest. The compliment is a long shot with how horrible I look, and I'm flattered, but I can't help looking down at my outfit to see what he's so intrigued by. My arms and hands are really dirty, covered in a thin layer of grim and speckled with dried blood from earlier (which seems disgusting but I really don't have time to wash my hands), and my hair is greasy, tied back with a rubber band so it won't get in my face, and I can just feel the dirt caked on my face. I'm wearing a leather vest with straps for medicine I've stored in the pockets and things. It's connected to my holster which has my gun in it, which sways around my hips which are clad in skinny jeans tucked into high-top black Chucks, which I always (I repeat; always) wear. I'll have to reapply my lipstick just for good measure, so I can look like one of those awesome, butt-kicking heroines who look awesome in every situation. Still, I thank him and accept the compliment happily.

Suddenly, without warning, David pulled me forward and planted his lips onto mine, kissing me softly and warmly. I smile, returning the kiss, and snake my arms around his neck. It's an incredible feeling, David kissing me, and I never want it to stop. Although I still can't feel anything _really_ between us, I realize how grateful I am for David's admiration and how wonderful a person he is, such a gentleman, kind and caring and selfless. His sense of humor never fails to make me laugh and I can't help but love being around him, although I still feel guilty with my constant wonder in the Doctor.

But David... David makes me feel alive and happy again.

When he pulls away, I smile up at him. "I'll come back," I say, because now I have something to live for, and my mind is made up. I have chosen David, and David has chosen me.

"I'll wait for you," he responds, kissing me once more on the forehead before I am whisked back to Molly's side and told to teleport.

My breath is shaky, and I really am worried now. Molly nods, and says, "On the count of three." I nod back.

As Molly counts down, I watch Rose wave goodbye, and I wave back, before slamming my hand down on the button and dissolving into nothingness.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Well, we don't end up in the sun, so that's a plus.

On the other hand, the second we slam into the ground, I get super light-headed, lean over, and start throwing up until my stomach is completely empty. This form of time travel is strange, and for the few seconds I was mere atoms, Molly and I were whizzed through an almost magical reality with colorful red, orange, and deep yellow lights all around us. I could see so many faces and things all at once, flashing through my mind, leaving me extremely dizzy.

Molly has materialized a few feet away from me, and is in similar conditions.

Exhausted, I roll over onto my back and wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand, anxious to get rid of the burning sensation in the back of my throat.

Once I've regained my strength, I sit up and glance around at my surroundings. It matches Anderson's descriptions, and it's comforting to know I'm in the right place. the sky is a cloudy dismal gray, the sun is barely peeking out from behind some clouds, rays on the gentle breeze that carries a fresh morning smell. Molly and I are lying in the soft pale sand of the beach that surrounds us, with the dirty blue-grey waves lapping the shore and foaming at the brim. Large rocks litter the shore, and that familiar ocean smell has been welcomed back to my senses. Behind us are tall white cliffs, so tall we can't see what's on top.

Molly stands shakily and helps me to my feet. About a mile down the beach is a two-story building that can only be the UNIT base.

She swears. "Those things are too rough for my taste.

I skip a response and instead pinpoint a curiosity of mine. "Anderson was saying that by this time, Sanguilamen have control of all of Earth, although they're just in London currently. But there aren't any! Where have they gone?" I glance around, confused.

Molly only shrugs. "By this point, they've killed all the humans, so they rely on animals and some plants to survive. See, when Sanguilamen food supplies start to diminish, they go on these hunts, which is just when the strongest ones go out and attack their prey, sucking most of the blood out of the victims. They then divide it up between themselves. They're actually quite generous and kind amongst each other, they always try their hardest to keep everyone else alive."

"Not that generous, obviously, they've killed off all of us by now."

Molly frowns. "Is the human race not responsible for forcing tigers nearly to extinction? They're just trying to stay alive, just like everyone else."

I see her point. Molly is very kind, always seeing the good in others, which reminds me of another curiosity that I've wondered about for a long time, and it now sits on the back of my tongue dangerously.

My decision is final: get it out, get it over with. "So, Molly, tell my more about yourself. I've known you for almost two years, and I still know nothing about you!"

She just sighs. "My life is pretty boring, I grew up normally and graduated from school with high marks, so I trained to become a nurse. Once that was finished, I decided to join Torchwood, and I've been a member ever since. Still, that was seven years ago, and so much has happened since... On the account that we might die here, I think I'll get it out now - something I've been dying to tell ever since it happened."

Just from her tone, I can tell she's about to tell me something very important, and I'm intrigued. What could shy, introverted Molly have to say that would be so big it had to be kept secret for seven years? An untold secret? _My kind of revelation,_ I joke with myself.

"Five years ago, it was a regular night, and I was all alone in the tower with one other person; Anderson. Now, take note that at this time Torchwood was a lot different than it is now. It thought only about how it could best help the humans, not bothering to care about the aliens we tracked down and the life-forms we destroyed. It's shaming to say that I helped with some of this cruelty. Before, Anderson was second-in-command, like Jack is now, and he _desperately_ wanted to be the leader. We were alone, and he called me forth and said that they'd just discovered that a very dangerous alien had come to Earth. It should be hunted down and killed immediately. No mercy, just a quick bullet through the head.

"Also at this time, I had been steady dating a man named Teddy, and we were starting to get pretty serious. Ted was everything I look for in a man; he was funny, kind, loyal, dependable, smart, loving, and strong. However, when I asked him on our date that night about it, Ted broke down. After I had calmed him down, Ted revealed himself as the "monster" I'd been told to kill. I was shocked! After the horrid description I'd received from Anderson, I couldn't understand how my wonderful Ted could be anything like that. Ted explained that he'd been stranded on Earth and taken refuge after his planet was lost, nothing more than scared and alone. I told Anderson that the alien had been taken care of, and snuck into his office to erase every trace of Ted's existence.

"Regardless of Ted's true nature and his natural and, well... different... form, I loved him anyways and was well loved in return. He asked me to marry him and I agreed. Ted and I have been married ever since, but it's involved a lot of hiding and secrecy to protect Ted.

"It's not always easy, living with him. All the stress placed on us is enough to make him mad enough to sometimes... snap. We really do love each other, though, but I fear for our child. She's going to be born in September. We used some alien technology to disguise my pregnancy, low-level perception filter. I'm thinking of naming her Clare Madeline Rose, would that be okay with you?" She finishes, smiling and rubbing her hands over her stomach.

Her story is astounding and so inspiring, and I can feel tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. After hugging Molly and telling her how incredible she is, I say, "Your daughter's going to have a wonderful mother. Of course you can name her that, I'm honored."

"We're monsters. It makes us sound like Daleks," I mutter, referencing the horrid creatures Rose has told me about that have caused so much damage in her life. "It's astounding how evil humans really can be."

"Sometimes I think I have such a hard life, and that I suffer more than most people. I just need people like you, Molly Davis, to put me into perspective, because your story really is humbling and I admire your strength."

We continue to talk, our conversation growing deeper, and I find myself more comfortable in her presence now than before, probably since I know what she's gone through. It warms my heart that she would choose me to name her child after. There are so many extraordinary people in the world, like Molly, and she asked me if she had my permission to use my name for her daughter? It really does make me happy.

Molly stops in her tracks, staring at the building in front of us which we've approached. It's in really bad shape, so it's not hard for us to get inside.

"Wow." My voice echoes down the long room, and Molly and I walk silently, staring incredulously at the wrecked building. Half of the ceiling has collapsed, and the table in the center has broken in half. Each of the fraying office chairs are occupied by corpses, but they are unlike corpses I've seen before. Their skin is dry and leathery, each with a puncture wound in the same place on the arm. Some still have a look of panic on their grotesque faces, and it makes me feel sick.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Molly whispers, glancing around at the faces of the women and men who only knew terror before their life was taken so cruelly.

"Are you still on the side of the Sanguilamen?" I ask Molly quietly. She gulps and turns, facing the windows streaked with blood and dirt, facing the peaceful beach.

After making our way up to the second floor and down another trashed hallway, we reach the laboratory. Shards of glass are scattered all over the floor, so we watch our step as Molly and I slowly make our way over to the table in the back. Tipped over on the side of the table is a black cube, with a yellow button on one side and a red on the opposite.

I really wasn't expecting this, but then again, I don't know what I was expecting. I pick it up delicately, careful not to press the buttons. Molly fingers the edge, but it's so sharp she cuts her finger on it.

"Huh.. Paper cut?" I laugh as she swears and sucks the blood from her little nick.

Molly just smiles.

A bloodcurdling cry splits through the silky silence. I'm startled enough to accidentally drop the cube, which I hurriedly catch before it can hit the ground. What really worries me, though, is Molly's face. She jumps, her eyes widening and pupils dilating. In one swift movement, she snatches the cube from my hands and holds it behind her back.

The ground begins to shake, and grabbing onto the counter top to maintain my balance I yell to Molly, "What's going on?"

"Earthquake!"

"In the United Kingdom? They don't get earthquakes very often, I grew up in California so I should know! It's _too_ stable here."

"Well, every now and then we get some, so it's not out of the ordinary."

It's interesting how casual a conversation we can have, opposite each other crouching underneath the countertops to avoid being injured. I've been in enough earthquakes to be scared in this situation, but Molly doesn't seem frightened either. She holds the cube close to her chest, regarding its safety more than her own.

Glancing out the window, she turns to me again and says, "We've got incoming. It might have taken them a while, but they know we're here. Listen, Clare, our main priority is to return the cube to Anderson, and if one of us is in danger, we're going to have to take care of that first. If something happens to me, make sure you go back before they can get their hands on it."

After another minute of shaking, we feel the ground slide once more and then shudder to a stop. Molly stands, stepping carefully towards me. I pull myself to my feet, but I can tell that something's not right.

The ceiling is cracking and I know in that second it's going to come crashing down on us.

"Get back!" I scream, ducking back underneath the table. Just as I'd predicted, a chunk of the plaster ceiling falls to the floor. After waiting until the dust settles, I stand again.

It blocks the aisle, so that Molly and I are separated. I can see her on the other side, and I call out, "Don't move! I'll come over there!"

She nods, but as I start moving the wreckage, I don't make it across before the unthinkable happens. A Sanguilamen shatters the window with its proboscis, the glass raining all over Molly. She shrieks and covers her face, but is left with many pieces of glass embedded in her arms and legs. Blood seeps out of the cuts, and she's left with trails of blood running down her body.

The Sanguilamen grabs Molly, and she screams as it takes flight again. Molly struggles to be released from its grip, but it's no use. The talons digging into her side are too tight.

Before my brain can even process what has happened, I've whipped out my gun and I'm aiming it at the Sanguilamen's heart - or where I'm guessing it is, at least. "Either way, it's got to hurt," I mutter to myself.

However, with Molly's life at stake, I can't do it. If I hit her, or force the Sanguilamen to drop her, I will never forgive myself. That's two more lives I've ended, or are mostly responsible for being ended.

The dreaded thing flies away with Molly. Despite what Molly has told me, I have to save her. I have to! She has the cube anyways, if I don't get it back from her than returning to my own time will be useless.

In anger and determination, I make a path quickly and climb out the window. Hastily making my way to the beach, I devise a plan in my mind. Although I know the Sanguilamen can see me and will soon start to try and kill me, I have to risk it for Molly's sake. I do have a gun, so it brings some protection and enough comfort to be motivated.

_You're being selfish. Stop it and save Molly already, _a voice says in the back of my head. I scowl at it, because I'm trying and I just don't want to listen to it anymore.

It's why I want to be with David; the voice simply goes away when he's around.

I force myself to get back on track. They've taken Molly to the top of the cliffs, where they're nesting or living or whatever these things do. If I want to save her, I've got to scale the cliff and get the cube, rescue Molly, and take both back to London.

In my peripheral vision, a glowing yellow light appears. Looking down, I can see that my dimension jump has passed the half-hour mark and is ready to be used. That means that as soon as I'm ready, Molly and I can leave.

Still hiding in the shadows behind the base, I give myself a short countdown. "On the count of three, run," I tell myself. For some reason, I feel like there should be someone next to me, another hand holding mine, helping me to rescue my friend. But there's no one there.

I dismiss the feeling and breathe out. "One... two... three!"

As fast I can, I bolt across the beach. A Sanguilamen flies directly toward me, but with a gun in my hand, I take a shot at the wing and leave it wounded. Guilt floods my system, but I know that it's not dead and will heal after this.

It's a lie, but it makes me feel better so I accept it.

Reaching the cliff, I take out two more. The cliffs are going to be harder to climb than I expected because of how slick they are, so I slide of a pair of gloves that should improve my stability.

One hand after another, I begin to climb. My feet reach for places that sometimes don't exist, and once I do find them I pull myself up and my glove latches on to ledges in the sheer rock. Every now and then, the rock I grab isn't secure or too small, and I slip and slide, almost falling off.

It's even harder since I'm holding a gun, but I solved that problem by holding it in my mouth. The grip tastes disgusting and I really hope I have a chance to wash my mouth out once I've done this, but for now it's my only option. When I see a Sanguilamen approaching, I use one hand to fire at it. By now, I've killed at least five of them and it's ripping me apart.

I have hot and grimy tears of frustration and guilt dripping off my chin. I'm only half way up the cliff, and my head is already spinning. I should probably mention - I have a slight fear of heights. They used to be okay to me, but by now I've developed a pretty irrational fear of falling to my death.

Suddenly, a voice - not the whiny one - calls out in my head, "Clare! You have to understand that I will always love you! I know you're upset, but it is still me. Look, still just me. I love you, and I always will. Do you love me?"

There was a pause as my eyebrows knitted in confusion. I then heard my own voice, but a few years younger, responding. "_Ko`u__kauka_, the Hawaiian word for love is _aloha. _You remember when I wrote it on our hands? I wasn't being insincere then, and I'm not now, either. Of course I do."

I'm even more confused. When did this conversation happen, and why am I speaking Hawaiian? The next response from the unnamed stranger comes in a wave of nausea. "_Kalale, _love, if what you say is true than you understand what you have to do. If you love me, you have to win."

The dizziness leaves and I shake my head, although I can feel even more tears. According to this mysterious man, apparently I'm known to him as Kalale, the Kryptonian name of Superman, and that's even stranger. Somewhere in my mind, _Kalale _registers as the Hawaiian word for Clare, but I don't recognize the term I used for the man I'm talking to. I don't understand what is going on, and I don't know where this sudden knowledge of the Hawaiian language came from or why I'm now sobbing and don't have the strength to keep going.

I gather myself again, and climb (much slower than before, admittedly) up the cliff. Glancing up, I still have a long ways to go before I reach the top. I'm surprised to see Molly standing on the edge of the cliff, and she's holding the cube.

Molly yells to me, "Clare! Watch out!"

I barely have enough time to turn around before it plunges into me. The Sanguilamen is racing forward, with its proboscis inches in front of my arm and then -

Pain, unbearable pain, agony even, burns in my soul and makes me scream in anguish. It really does feel like a mosquito bite, except a thousand times worse. I just want it to stop, my blood is on fire, my very essence is burning and I can do nothing to stop it. I now understand what the Cruciatus Curse from the Harry Potter series feels like, and it's not something I ever want to feel again. The Sanguilamen burrows deeper and deeper into my arm, and I watch the clear proboscis fill with my blood, and I'm getting light-headed. No, it's worse than that - I'm being drained of everything. My memories, my life, all my anger and sorrow and love and hurt and happiness is disappearing, fading from me and all I can do is scream. The pain, this torturous agony is all I can think of, I can't even think. _What's happening?_ I wonder in a voice that is not my own.

I gasp as it withdrawals. I have barely enough strength to hold on, and even that is failing. Images flash through my head, ones I've never seen before, and in that moment I realize who I am. A man, such a wonderful man like no other, and I just want to kiss him and kiss him all my days until I die. I know I'm losing track of myself and my mind, and soon I won't even remember my name. A book appears The life and death of Clare Williams. Who is Clare Williams? Why is she falling through the air, with the wind cradling her like a lost soul, falling into a peaceful oblivion, her life slipping through her fingers like sand? _It feels nice, doesn't it? _A strong voice whispers to me. _Remember him, that man, it will mean everything for your future._

The person on the cliff shouts something to me, and drops the black thing it's holding. I hold my hands out and catch it, cradling it in my arms. The glowing button around my neck looks interesting, and that person is telling me to press it.

What am I? These words that whisper in my mind are strange, what are their meanings?

I decide to press the thing on my neck, and as soon as my hands touch the thing, I feel the night absorbing me and I fade away, into the peaceful oblivion I crave.


End file.
